Octohopper, a prismatic jumping spider have been dismissed.

Skaldia is ready, at the head of a small army of perhaps two hundred and seventy-odd soldiers in purple tabards with the crowned laughing skull of Harrow. How she ended up in charge of a small army is anyone's guess. The Banshees, some whispers around the camp begin, they are a solemn bunch. Skaldia's features are determined, resolute. She is mounted in a beautiful mare that once belonged to Dame Felicia, Whiskey Dream, her bow and quiver slung across her back. Libera, her hawk companion, is circling overhead.

Joy, the advisor of roses arrives, following Esme.

Lucita has been drifting through the camp the last few days singing and playing songs to help raise and maintain morale. Currently she is simply watching the others getting ready and resting her voice.

Benny is loose! The beaver is waddling towards where Mirk is standing. He thumps his tail on the ground and then settles in next to the Spirit Walkers Elder.

Ferrando has joined the altar carved with a wolf's head.

Kastelon stands at the ready, bow in hand, arrows where they can be easily retrieved. His single eye is fixed upon the hall through the gap in the thorn hedge, though that means his ears are out for anything that might be afoot.

Standing near Sen'azala, the energy Ian gives off is almost polar opposite to hers. As the time grows closer, he becomes more still. A subtle tension that might originally have been nerves fades a way, leaving him centered, a man totally at peace with where he is, and what he's about to do.

The forces of the Compact, specifically of the Crownlands and the Faith, have gathered outside Harrow Hall and its Wall of Thorns. With the collapse of the thin section of the hedge barrier erected by the Horned God, Harrow becomes vulnerable to attack, but the Horned God surely knows that. Numerous gargantuans move from atop the wall of thorns to attempt to block the way, and it looks like thousands of centipede-like monstrosities the size of anywhere from dogs to horses skitter along the ground in their path. Badly twisted humanoids which might have once been sylv'alfar are armed and armored for battle, moving in an eerie lockstep unison of a hive mind. And behind them all stands the castle walls of Harrow Hall, with the faint sound of chanting becoming louder and louder until even far beyond the hedge they can hear the words for those who know the oldest of tongues. "... bid his return, we bid the moon awaken! We bid the end of this false world, we bid the end of choice, we bid his return, we bid the moon awaken! WE BID THE END OF THIS FALSE WORLD, WE BID THE END OF CHOICE, WE BID HIS RETURN, WE BID THE MOON AWAKEN!" The words become a rumble, and what looks like inky dark tendrils start to crawl from the top of the towers of Harrow Hall, beginning to stretch skyward to a moon that is turning red as dark blood.

Vitalis draws up short at something Mirk says, brow furrowing. He reaches out to clasp the man's hand and murmurs something in return.

Confessor Imori, 5 Armed Confessors, Confessor Warren arrive, following Tikva.

Confessor Imori, 5 Armed Confessors, Confessor Warren leave, following Tikva.

Caspian tightens the straps on his bracers, staring at thorns and the goal behind it. he turns and walks to Ian, clasping the man's shoulder. "see you in the other side my friend. person with fewest bandages buys drinks"

Flores D'loto, a deep golden dappled buckskin Torean stallion, Alejandro, a gravely sober middle-aged Torean arrive, following Aconite.

Triton slowly rises from his ground-level seat by the Ravenseye forces and stretches. He tosses his wife, Elora, an offhand salute and a cockeyed grin to her command post from where she is commanding the family troops, then another to his nearby twin, Rosa, making a gesture indicating that he is watching her wayward self. Then he turns to face the hedge and the mass of ugly creatures, his face set now in a grim and determined mask.

Serene or not, the sight of the moon beginning to change is still enough to make Ian catch his breath. Under his breath, the master of understatement makes what's probably the pinnacle understatement of his understating career: "Well that's not good."

Caspian has left the altar carved with a wolf's head.

Katarina has been here -- as Minister of War for House Valardin, it's her job to oversee their armies, et cetera. She's in the midst of giving a rallying speech to a group of Valardin soldiers: "...strength is our honor, and our honor is our strength. That honor cannot be broken, and so our strength is without limit, no matter what--" Katarina cuts off mid-thought, looking up at the sky as the inky dark tendrils begin their chthonic slither towards the moon. "...no matter what the enemy might... present..."

Eirene's solemn gaze turns upward as the sky and moon start to turn crimson and Destiny awakens. "By your leave, Highlord," she says to Liara, stepping up with her blade in hand. She has something to say to the gathered troops. Eirene is usually laid back and sarcastic... but not today. She is a General and her expression is grim and determined.

Confessor Imori, 5 Armed Confessors, Confessor Warren arrive, following Tikva.

Confessor Imori, 5 Armed Confessors, Confessor Warren leave, following Tikva.

Aconite has joined the Medics Tent.

Desma is stroking her osprey, Splinter, whispering encouraging words to the raptor and resting her forehead against his head. She looks over towards the army of monstrosities and the red moon. "Fly. Fly high Splinter. Fly!" With that the osprey takes flight, rising higher and higher over the battlefield to come. Desma then looks to Eirene and nods, "Ready."

Harlex stands to look up for so long the cigarillo burns his lip and he hisses a curse before snuffing it out under his boot. The sword low in his hand, inert to the sight of the moon.

After a bit of contemplation by Skald's altar, Raja turns around to look back to the assembling forces. She takes in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "Right then. Let's fight for freedom!" She says to anyone else near her. A dagger is pulled from her belt. She joins the forces nearby, falling in line where she is supposed to be. The chanting begins and even Raja has a moment to be awe-struck at the sheer power that erupts from the tower, and to the moon that turns red as blood. However, she does not falter. The Liberator continues forward, gripping her trusty dagger even tighter as the two armies draw closer to one another.

"Remember, Knights of Solace. They bleed. And If it bleeds, we can kill it!" Jeffeth rumbles to his pack as the thorns come down and the enemy advances.

Edris is still next to Alis, though there's a dangerous glimmer in his dark eyes as he looms above her and eyes the gargantuans and the twisted elves. The noises of the hosts they face seem to cause that rise in energy and adrenaline, and underneath the helm's visor a smile of sorts curves his lips. Humorless, perhaps even a touch feral, along with doubtless the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and the goosebumps the unnatural make break out over his flesh. But he waits, not dignifying the screamings of puppets and traitor with a verbal response.

Medeia had been part of the reason why that section of thorn has collapsed. After significant work on the Thirnweave Fire with a select group of the best alchemists in the Compact, she was told of the spot where the moon's light did not touch the thorns. That Thornweave Fire is effective beyond her hopes, but now? Now, the Saik lady has retreated to lead the Physicians and other medics. She's armed and armored, one hand fidgeting with a black stone that hangs from her neck.

Esme has been around somewhere on the sidelines, but it is time for battle. Esme's normal smile is sort of there. She can't get rid of it fully, but there is concern across her features. When the chanting happens and the moon turns she offers a prayer. Then waits for plans to be made. Kindness is already near her hand.

Sen'azala exhales through her teeth. What was that about energy? No, now it's unmistakable. Dark, angry, palpable, there's something about her that seems rather...other, despite all actual appearances. She looks up at the sky, golden eyes narrowed, then gives Mirk a nod, sweeps her gaze over the gathered, and pulls her hood up, which at least has the effect of hiding her painted face from distant view. There's a look toward Ian, and she slips into the frantically milling crowd of soldiers.

Mounted on a handsome rose grey stallion, and dressed in a fine set of brigandined midnight blue armor, Pasquale Malespero rides up to a point just behind the Malespero lines and turns his gaze over the lines once more. He nods, apparantly satisfied, and then turns his gaze out towards the chanting and the threat it heralds.

Liara glances up to the moon, though briefly, and clearly aghast at the sight, though she is quick to school her features. She looks aside to Eirene then, with a small tilt of her head. "Carry on, Lady General."


**********************************************************************
Throughout Arvum and the world entire, millions of people look up to the sky that now has black tendrils stretching towards a blood red moon. As they watch, the moon begins to resemble more and more of a skull, the empty eye sockets gazing down at the world with hate.

Above Harrow Hall, what looks like a book begins to rise into the sky, floating above the towers. The book grows and grows until its shadow casts itself over the landscape, with but the flicker of red moonlight giving illumination. In the Great Book of Endings, every individual can read the words of their current and recent actions, telling their story as letters begin to appear telling of a particularly terrible end.
**********************************************************************


There's a cloud of dust rising behind the assembled armies of the Compact, a cloud that's been rising for some time. It resolves into thousands of marching figures, and at their head is an overtall and overthin figure clad all in black, with a knife in each hand. There is nothing of the skin of the Paladin of Death exposed; even the crescent of visible face is nothing but a skull. The army of the restless dead is here, and their Paladin leads them to battle.

Finally, this is it: the battle they have been so long afraid for. Drake has fought the centipedes before, but never in such number and never with such a strong sense of finality. The darkened moon heightens the sense of danger. He readies his sword for the onslaught.

Thea's eyes look upward. To the face that is Destiny. Taking a breath, she straightens and steps forward, her helm lowered. Ready.

"You don't see that every day." Kastelon's expression is unchanged, his voice a hint more tense than usual as he's watching the goings on from behind the hedge and... a breath. His hand reaches for an arrow, nocking it on his bow already. The set of his jaw, as he's noticing that floating book, though that one eye's lowered towards the foes on the far end of the passage through the thorns. "Where you go," the Keaton lord says, simply enough. And aim is taken.

Aconite arrives just as the moon begins it's transformation. The Radiantrides towards the tent for the healers, intent on doing what she can to support those rising up in defense of the city and the Compact.

Lou goes very, very still when the chanting starts beginning and then starts growing. She wields her newest weapon, created by Dame Ida; Pathfinder. Its alaricite blade gleams as she brings it out of its sheath. She looks first to Liara and then to Eirene to see how they wish to get things moving, to see when the order to charge will be given. She's primed and ready for this battle, even in spite of all of her nerves showing through.

Aconite wields Serpentine Grace, a cupridium kris.

Skaldia turns her gaze upward, as the moon starts to turn red, and as the dark tendrils begin to creep toward it. Her eyes narrow, and she sets her jaw stubbornly. "This is it!" she calls to the soldiers behind her. "Now or never! Whatever happens, you know what your orders are." The men beat their fists against their shields and chests as one, and Skaldia unslings her bow, nocking an arrow. She faces forward, ready to engage with the creepy-crawlies that come swarming out of Harrow Hall. She doesn't focus on the gargantuans at all. She knows others will focus on them.

Sydney sets her jaw as she watches the progression of the moon. It's not hard to see the woman's hands trembling, but she firms her back. It doesn't stop the shaking, but neither does her spirit break.

"We bid the end of you," Mirk replies in that same tongue, but it's quiet, half to himself. He stands firm, staff in hand, Benny at his side. To the Redrain contingent, he shouts, "He calls himself a god, but he is only a man. We shall show him the strength of the North, the wisdom of the spirits, and the blessings of the elements. We shall end his ambitions here. No matter what it takes. Hold firm, and know that the world itself is against him. No man can overcome that."

With far more dexterity than any man using a cane ought to have, Ian starts to thread through the crowd after Sen.

Ian leaves, following Sen'azala.

Vitalis looks up with everyone else, the whole world, at the moon, tendrils, book. He stands shoulder to shoulder with Adalyn and bows his head to pray.

Fortunato tucks the fall of his long coat around his fireweave apron. The Chosen By the Grill embroidery is dimly reddened, the gold of his borrowed armor seems to fade against the black. He pulls the gloves from his hands, and they gleam like lantern-glass in the dark. He tilts his head toward Eirene, then toward Liara. He waits in the shadow of the throne. He says, low, "Until all chains are broken."

Thesarin stands, looking nothing like a shav out of the woods dressed in a nobleman's clothes. Today his face is covered in black and red war paint, stygian and bone in his hair, in his furs and weighed down with his weapons, he looks exactly like a shav warlord out of the Grey Forests. He watches the monsters and their chanting, and speaks, loudly in the tone of a man who's spent years practicing to be heard over a crowd. "...a thousand years ago, at the breaking of the world, my ancestors rode out from this hall to fight the darkness." He looks at the arranged soldiers, and then to the hordes that oppose them. "They made their allies of the Wolves of the South, the Vendani. and called their people kin and friend. And now we've come back to this. There's a symmetry in it."

Princess Macda Grayson abides by the bone throne, resplendent in a mismatched set of leather, rubicund and alaricite armor that protects her from chin to toe. Turning to meet Liara's eyes, she gives her sister a long, unfathomable look, her lips upturning in a smaller smile than before. "None greater," she mouths to her with an inclination of her blonde head in kind, then turns with distinct finality to survey the battlefield before her. She narrows her eyes, her gaze growing as dark and forboding as the sky above. Raising a gauntleted hand, she dons the last piece of her armor, a shining alaricite helm hammered into the likeness of an eagle's head, her stare igniting with wild and newfound fire at the apex of her razorlike beak.

Jan is not mounted and leading the charge, rather she leads the infantry which is just behind the cavalry. The thoroughbred chargers prance forward, restless and eager for the charge with the many boots of the infantry marching in lockstep in their wake. Lifting Glinting Gale "BY THE BLESSED THIRTEEN LET'S GIVE THIS TURD-SNIFFING GHERKIN-SWINGING FART-MUNCHER THE RIGHTEOUS KICK IN THE TAINT THAT'S BEEN LIFETIMES IN COMING!"

Preston has mustered with the Faith Militant - the ranks of the Templars formed into units under banners of the Faith bearing symbols of the Gods and the names of parishes and areas where the Templar groups have come from. Standing in the shadows of Dame Ida's siege machines, Preston slowly draws out Crusader and turns it in his hands, silent for a moment before he speaks "We pray, Templars. If it may be the final prayer that slips from our lips, let it be this. We ask Gloria not for the strength of victory, not for deliverence from our foe, but for the will and the courage to hold our honour until the end. Unwavering, unbowed, unbroken." Preston's eyes drift up to the sky "Orichalcum will look for us, Brothers and Sisters, his eyes find us. Let us make sure what he sees is the finest of the Gods' ideals."

A ringing of heavy bells begins to echo over hills leading towards Harrow Hall.

Climbing upon the hills towards the battlefield stands a legion of Rivenshari. Delicate bells resonates with each step, produce a gentle and haunting chime that follows the soldiers every movement, a symphony of anticipation accompanying them into the heart of conflict.

Mattheu Rivenshari takes lead with rise of a blue tinted sword, catching light upon the battle to come, the sword has its own bells to sing out when swung. His gaze lifting to the sky as the tendrils lift from Harrow Hall calling out to those around him. "We fight not just for ourselves, but for the memory of those we've lost. For the promise of a future where all are free!"

Mattheu says in Ravashari, "For Skald! Our promise to hold his heart, to stay free! Onward, my kin, for the river flows in our veins, and together, we shall overcome!"

Caspian stares up at the sky, the chanting filling the air. he raises his voice then in a defiant shout "we fight for freedom! we fight for our future! fuck that book, we write our own endings! we choose our own paths! and our path leads us to tear down those walls!!!"

Keso, a totally legit assistant, Tiger, the clever mechanical bird, Peanut, an oversized mountain dog arrive, following Aleksei.

" My name is Eirene Riven, born of House Malvici. And I'm honored to stand before you. Honored to be a daughter of Arvum and the Compact. I'm speaking to you as we're currently in control of our situation but that's not going to last for long. How long we hang on, how far we get, how many of us survive the day - that is now up to us. Wherever you are, stand up. The time has come to fight. They underestimate us, and we know it. By the time they figure out how strong we are, it will be too late. We will NEVER have a better chance and I would rather die trying to take them down than give them what they want. We know they've killed thousands upon thousands of innocents. Spilled blood for centuries and enslaved our friends, our family... all into one will, one destiny. And we will never be released from their grasp. They dream of a world where there are no names, no individuality, no choice. THAT ENDS TODAY. There is ONE way forward. Right now, the field is ours but it won't be for long.. You need to run, fight, kill. You need to help one another. You see someone who is lost, you get them moving and you 410KEEP them moving until the battle is won. Your comrades may fall; they may get back up again with a burning need for vengeance. You may see giants, magic, monsters... all these things we have been told are nightmares. But no more. We have opened our eyes. We have awakened.

We've been kept asleep. We've had our petty squabbles and our conflicts. We've had one another and our small victories, but our history has been pulled away and we've forgotten it. We were sleeping, all of us... but then we had to turn to the truth we did not want to face. That THEY did not want us to face. The Horned God, the Herald of Slavery, has always thrived in darkness. Gaining power while we were kept asleep, in the dark. It's easy for me to tell you to fight. I've been awake and my eyes have been open for years. But if I could, I would have woken you all up earlier and we could have fought those bastards from the start. FOR THE COMPACT! FOR ARVUM! FOR FREEDOM! FUCK THE HORNED GOD!


Mabelle notices the rows of wild.. creatures standing before the hall walls. Not that she expected any less, but it does make her take a few rows back so she can properly gaze at the moon, planning her approach to all this. "Well then that's interesting". She has no battlecry, Mabelle is one for the discussions table.

Keso, a totally legit assistant, Tiger, the clever mechanical bird, Peanut, an oversized mountain dog leave, following Aleksei.

Esme wields Kindness, a diamondplate longsword.

Tesha looks up when everything gets going. The blood red sky and the ominous chanting leave her with a bit of an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She unsheathes The Red Thorn, lifting the Thornweave blade above her in a defiant move, "FEAR NO ENEMY!" she calls out, getting tangled up in the other war cries and declarations.

Finally. A sentiment Sydney can truly rally behind. "FUCK THE HORNED GOD!"

Desma near Eirene, Desma punches her bow in the air and yells out in response to Eirene's final words to the speech. "FUCK THE HORNED GOD!"

Pasquale turns his eyes up towards the book overhead, his eyes skimming the words. "See that?" he asks the men near to him with a voice measured for battle. Clear and carrying. "The great liar presents us with his latest lie. Ignore those words - They only matter if you believe them."

Katarina lifts her blade as everyone cheers along, but does have a slight look of distaste on her face at the rallying cry being so... profane. She doesn't shout along.

Benny was once the size of a small dog. Now he's a bit taller than Mirk (sorry Mirk!). The beavy thumps his tail again, sending a little rumble through the ground as he does. He's ready to chew on something!

Rivenshari also brought navy in case this fight goes to the water and Ann can be standing on top of the boats so she can get a view of the battlefield in general. Placing a hand to her heart when she hears the cries of her kin she married into. The other fiddling at her necklace with black stone. This once Princess of Redrain and Duchess of Stormwall is here to fight even if she has no rousing speech like the others. She also looked upwards and how the moon changed and then her focus is on the main event.

Alis watches the sky as dark portents unfold, but keeps her expression shuttered for as long as possible. Perhaps the way she swallows thickly at the sight of the blood red moon and tendrils, and the book, give lie to how calm she seems. But, when the restless dead arrive with Raymesin at their helm, she turns to look at them, seemingly searching for someone or something amongst them before she tips her head towards the Paladin of Death in recognition and pious thanks for their arrival. Eirene's speech has her cracking the first real smile of the evening for her, and she raises her weapon, turning towards the Oathlands troops that arrived with her to encourage them to join in. "FOR AVRUM! FOR FREEDOM! GODS BE PRAISED!"

Katarina join in with "FOR ARVUM, FOR FREEDOM, GODS BE PRAISED," though.

Mabelle really does relate to the Lycene call but she's an Oathlander, "For Arvum! For Vengence!". That's her take on it. A little of both!

There's no battlecry from the restless dead. Just the sound of marching feet, and the rattling of bone.

Standing amongst a contingent of darkly dressed Islander soldiers, each one wearing a serious expression, princess Denica is a shock of colour. The princess watches everything unfold, the sky, the tendrils, the monsters that emerge everywhere. The darkness that comes. "For freedom!," Denica echoes Eirene's words. There's a number of soldiers carrying a large folded ships sail and they follow the young woman as she seeks out the appropriate location amongst everything.

Lucita quietly stands watching all the activities around her as well as the sky and the Harrow Hall. She turns to listen to the speech given and simply pumps one fist in the air and cheers. A nod of welcome is given the dead army's arrival.

Adalyn comes in at the front of her army flying the flag of house Clement, her green eyes lite with the energy when the blank tendrils start, she lowers her head and party standing along side Vitalis.

Standing on that high point, Liara takes in the sight of the approaching foe, assessing them intently as Eirene addresses the army. She issues quick directions to a few officers nearby, who hurry along the line to distribute specific orders. Arrows are prepared, catapults loaded, and pikes are levelled. The densest part of the formation is that assembled right in front of that high point - in front of Liara, and in front of the Elfbone Throne.

Then, those orders given, Liara reaches to her side for her own sword.

She does not have a speech as such. She has three words, for which she is known, and she calls them, crisply and clearly: "The Compact endures!"

Liara wields Elvesbane, the longsword of House Grayson.

"For Arvum!" Mirk echoes, joining the cry. "For freedom! Gods and spirits be praised." Not exactly what was being said, but he has his own Northern flair to it.

Esme is now all glowy with that holy light. Go go nightlight power or something. She doesn't scream out but she drops her helm over her face and progresses with the others. Her emerald eyes tracking what is going on.

Triton settles a caestus by punching one hand into the other palm and growls lowly, moving to the front of the Ravenseye line as it advances to join with the others.

Fortunato checks wits and artwork at hard. Fortunato is successful.

Turning to those around him, Mattheu pounds to his chest. Shouting in Ravashari before turning to the fields and speaking in Arvani. "Today is about the choice that has been stolen from us in the past, to prevent that choice from being stolen again!" Holding the Rivenshari sword above his head the troops in a booming echo all pound weapons to shields, their bells calling out as a strong river crashing through a dam.

A wicked grin over Mattheu's lips as he turns towards the fields watching siege weapons start their volleys at the Hall. He whistles out a small shot of three quick calls. Turning back towards where the Rivenshari Floatila sits at rivers edge behind the camps. Another loud call in one long whistle as he waits for two short calls to return, the heavy bells fading into calls from troops.

A deep breath as the Rivenshari lord points Siren's song, the blue tinted sword, towards Harrow Hall "Fellow wanderers of the river's edge, hear me now as the echoes of our turbulent past reverberate through the waters that bind us. I stand before you not as a mere Ravashari, but as one who has weathered the storm, whose kin have been scattered like leaves in the tempest of war. Our homes, our families, torn asunder by the same cruel hands that seek to shatter us once again."

Mattheu looks over his troops, and the armies of the Compact, from the Formians to each of the wards and their houses. "Yet, my heart pulses with the undying rhythm of the river that flows within us. We are the descendants of resilient currents, shaped by the bends and rapids of adversity. Our roots may have been uprooted, but the river's spirit runs through our veins, and we stand unbowed, unbroken, ready to face those who would dare threaten our existence!"

Mattheu continues with a wave of his arm, "Look around you, my brothers and sisters! The time has come to rise from the ashes of our sorrow, to forge a new path through the battleground that stretches before us. Our enemies, the architects of our past anguish, have not learned the lessons written in the currents of time. They dare to challenge us once more, underestimating the strength that flows within our very souls!"

A wave of dread sweeps the coming battlefield, and there's the unmistakable sound of fear among the assembled troops. This is not aided by the actions of the enemy who are attemtping to cast fear. Gargantuans holding what were mighty oaks as trees begin to club the ground in unison with the Horned God's chant, the thunderous rumble causing tremors in the ground to the words of, "WE BID THE END OF THIS FALSE WORLD, WE BID THE END OF CHOICE, WE BID HIS RETURN, WE BID THE MOON AWAKEN!" There's a monstrous inhuman 'SKREEEEEEEEE' from thouands of gibbering mouths as the swarm of centipede creatures begin to sweep forward in the narrow path of the edge- it's likely they intend to cause a rout, and buy the Horned God all the time he needs to finish his work.

((OOC: First checks! For anyone attempting to give morale to stop a rout of the human army, it'll be any social check at daunting (charm/composure/command + any skill, or at hard for command + leadership. Minus one difficulty level if it's magical use.

For those attempting to frontline against the skittering horde, it'll be dex + weaponskill at daunting, or offensive magic checks at hard.

And for anyone attempting to sneak by along the hedge, it'd be a dex + stealth check at daunting -right now-, or get significantly easier if the initial fight rounds are successful.))

The Prince-Consort of Sanctum listens to Eirene's speech, and it's then his silence is broken, after Alis enters the fray. "For Elin Moore. For Acorn Hill. For Oberion Thornweave. For Artshall. For the Compact! For humanity and freedom!" Edris' battlefield voice rises, and he lifts the sword he wields along with so many other voices. "The suffering ends this day!"

Pasquale checks command and leadership at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Edris checks command and leadership at hard. Edris marginally fails.

Iliana checks command and leadership at hard. Iliana fails.

Thesarin checks command and leadership at hard. Thesarin is successful.

Drake checks charm and leadership at daunting. Drake fails.

Harlex checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Harlex is marginally successful.

Katarina checks command and leadership at hard. Katarina is successful.

Alis checks command and leadership at hard. Alis fails.

Eirene checks command and leadership at hard. Eirene marginally fails.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at daunting. Kastelon marginally fails.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Medeia checks charm and leadership at hard. Medeia is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at daunting. Caspian is successful.

Denica checks mana and artwork at hard. Denica is successful.

Vitalis checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Vitalis fails.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Mattheu fails.

Jeffeth checks dexterity and huge wpn at daunting. Jeffeth fails.

Macda checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Macda is successful.

Triton checks composure and survival at hard. Critical Success! Triton is spectacularly successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Lou is successful.

Preston checks command and leadership at hard. Preston fails.

Thea checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Thea fails.

Ferrando checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Ferrando marginally fails.

Desma checks command and leadership at hard. Desma marginally fails.

Raymesin checks command and leadership at normal. Raymesin is marginally successful.

Skaldia checks dexterity and archery at daunting. Critical Success! Skaldia is spectacularly successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Tesha fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Critical Success! Sydney is spectacularly successful.

Raja checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Raja fails.

Lucita checks mana and performance at daunting. Lucita is successful.

Jan checks command and leadership at daunting. Jan fails.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at hard. Mabelle fails.

Ann checks charm and diplomacy at hard. Ann is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Triton fails.

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Adalyn fails.

Esme checks charm and leadership at hard. Botch! Esme fails completely.

Jan checks command and leadership at hard. Jan is successful.

Fortunato raises his light-limmed hands. As Liara finishes her three-word speech, a great shape rises up behind her, leonine in bulk, flickering with feathers. The griffon launches into the sky, its great wings casting sharp shadows over the army. It rises, it rises, with a beat of wings. Then it soars over the army and over the dreadful foe, its red-blasted shadow stretched over the gargantuans, the centipedes, the hedge. It extends long talons, its tail sweeps behind it, its mouth is open wide, a herald-beast of battle of Alarice's time emblazoned on the sky -- and then it withdraws beyond the hall itself, out of sight.

It looked for a moment like it could be a rout, and some of the templars even began to lower their weapons and back away, and some of the rearguard looked like it might turn to flee in a panic, but they managed to snap out of it. The skittering monstrosities crash against the frontline, and some soldiers are swarmed over, but the front is presently holding with scattered cheers as some look to the night sky.

((One round of poses before next checks))

Liara checks command and leadership at normal. Liara is successful.

Vitalis lets Defiance loose to slither at his feet. A slaver's weapon to defeat a slaver. He tucks his chin, scars on his face flaring briefly. He gives Adalyn a kiss and then ghosts away.

Raymesin lifts the red blade with the lightning bolt down it, and starts chanting words. To some few they're familiar words, and the Ritual of the Valiant Stand is spoken by a person with the power he needs to speak them for possibly the first time in centuries. Unfortunately, the man who speaks them isn't a Templar - but he's trying his best. And his best is hopefully at least a little bit of help to some. Most of the people near him, of course, are those who don't actually care about morale because what exactly is the Horned God going to do, kill them and everyone they love again?

Drake tries to rally troops along with the others, but his voice doesn't carry well over the din of the starting battle. The helm is a bit muffling. All he manages is: "To arms! May no agent of the Horned God survive this gruesome night!" From here he must join the battle directly, it seems, as just shouting isn't going to cut it. He moves to join those already in the front lines.

Lucita spots the emotional effects on the troops, similar to what was done in Setarco by the Gyre. She stands where she can reach as many soldiers with her voice as possible, having practiced, practiced, and practiced more. She sings to bolster courage and reduce fears to a much more manageable level and block such attacks on the warriers and healers.

"FUCK! THE HORNED! GOD!" Macda screams, hurtling forward like a cannon shot from a catapult as the first line of the enemy advances. She clashes head-on with a centipede creature and raises both her fists, bringing them down on top of it in a strike that has every ounce of her rage and power behind it--and then she does it again, and again, and again, each eliciting a more sickening thwack than the last, gore spattering the face of her pristine alaricite helm.

Aconite's black gaze sweeps the field, following the rallying cries of the heroes. She and Alejandro remain astride their war-horses, armed but remaining near the back near the healers tent, perhaps as a line of defense or to transport the injured quickly from the battle lines.

A number of soldiers, at Denica's instruction, position themselves near the Elfborne Throne, there they unravel the ships sail they carry and present a Large Mural of Queen Alarice. The mural tells the vivid story of her greatness and the fall of the Traitor in bright colours, using a mast, they work to erect it there, clearly pointed at Harrow Hall, intentionally trying to mock with the large images that are painted across its surface. While the group works in their task, the princess focuses on something else, light and colour, truth and freedom, it lights her up from inside out.

Mabelle is not running with the front lines, nor is she walking along the walls. She is standing quietly by one of the trees, attempting the gaze really hard at the moon. Its hard, her mind is burdened by the presence of Him, concentrating is almost impossible and despite her best efforts, nothing works. Maybe she needs to climb the tree.

Jeffeth swings his giant war hammer at these ugly ass abyssal monstrosities, taking some damage in the process.

"For fucks---,"Thea grunts, swatting at the swarm. She lifts the helm just a touch so she can see, grunting. This is NOT how she planned things.

Alis does her duty to try and rally troops, but then - it has been far too long since she's been able to fight the creatures of the abyss. And what Knight wants to let that stand? Besides, so long as she's not maimed, trampled, or killed outright in the first wave then it's got to be encouraging to see right? So, looks over at Edris and then nods towards the front lines.

Esme offers, "Don't flee. It wouldn't be very oathworthy." The looks she gets makes her clear her throat a moment and go back to her sword instead. A slight flush across the tops of her cheeks.

Katarina is approximately five apples tall, but she projects a much larger aura as she lifts her blade and points toward the oncoming enemy army. "To battle -- to victory!" she cries, and charges with the Valardin troops, though many of them have longer legs than her and swiftly overtake her on the rush to the front lines. One has to put aside one's ego in moments like this.

Mirk stands firm, as the monstrous army begins to come. He raises his staff, and he opens his mouth to call out, but the words are lost in a howl of wind and bitter cold. His wind descends on the horde, frost glittering in its wake, and engulfs centipede creatures. A few are blown aside, or stumble in the face of sheer wind, while others are slowed by cold. A breeze remains, stirring his hair but nothing else, as he continues to murmur to the wind, his eyes fixed on the army before them.

Eirene did her best to be inspiring but perhaps she was TOO verbose. None the less, the tail end seemed to resonate. And it wouldn't be a battlefield unless Eirene says something uncouth. She points Dawnstrike forward and shouts, her voice harsh within the din but still cutting through, "Hold the line! Let not one damn cur pass by! How many of them can we make DIE!"

Mattheu leads a charge towards the ranks of dead only to clash into them with Rivenshari Infantry following. Shields pounded upon, bells singing in their motion. The song of bells lifting over battle as they take to swinging to find a means to re-dead the dead.

"FORWARD!" Calls the Tenacious Griffon, as Lou makes her way forward with the others heading into the front line battle. She whips her alaricite sword to and fro, catching on the nearest monster trying to make its way through the lines. "KEEP PRESSING IN. HOLD THE LINE." She calls out, "FOR FREEDOM! FOR HOPE!" And although she is not leading any one in particular, she makes all of these her battle cries as she presses into battle even further.

Harlex splits the guts from a misshapen thing that charged in to the frontline. The crush has begun and he's familiar enough with the sensation of having so much heat and sweat and fear around you that breathing becomes hard, thoughts become brief flares of instinct. He swings fast, all the same, fast and brutal. Blood beginning to decorate him; broken only by the appearance of his teeth in a sudden eager smile.

One thing Raja is good at it stealthy bits. So, she works to try and stealth her way around to find a foe to surprise. However, with the sheer number of forces makes the task neigh impossible! she comes face to face with a twisted creature and she just blinks. "Hello mother fucker." A smirk twists at her lips as she raises her blade, ready to defend herself.

Skaldia's first arrow strikes true, and the archers among the Banshees follow her lead in a rain of more arrows. Then the infantry are charging forward to engage with the enemy creepies, to hopefully help carve a path, to a single purpose. Meanwhile, her hawk Libera continues to circle overhead, biding her time. The sight of a griffin flying overhead does give Skaldia pause for a moment, and she stares up at it in wonder. But then she is drawing another arrow, preparing to lead her archers in another volley.

Desma shouts words of encouragement to those near her, but her voice is mostly drowned out by the clamour of the battle. She holds her bow and looks to Eirene, looking concerned. "Shall I try now?"

For any in the back they might hear Ann encouraging those out on the field to continue on and to keep fighting. She tells those on the boats with her to make ready for any injured that the medic tent can't take care of. The bells on the boat in unison with those out on the field under Mattheu's leadership.

"FOR ARVUM!" Kastelon's voice, low, booms out as he's taking aim on the onslaught that's approaching them, with but a quick look down and up the line of those standing between the forces being rallied and that horde. The pause for a taking of breath, for letting it free, before the arrow is let fly - that it finds not its target is not the important thing to him. What is important is not yielding his ground, even as he's already drawing a second arrow and nocking it.

Caspian has no troops that he leads, so instead he simply does his best to lead by example. he hurls himself in the chittering horde, knives flashing as the carve into the bugs. "they bleed like us! and they die Judy kind is! send them to the dirt!" the knives whipped out, slicing legs, mandibles and plunging into the eyes of the beasts.

Triton glances back as he feels the Ravenseye line waver before stepping into the gap. He growls louder and lifts and armored fist skyward. "I will die alone here and you can carry word to Lady Elora if you cannot bear to stay!" With that he turns and steps toward the front line, where a couple of skittery things promptly knock him back. Fortunately, the troops seem to feel that centipedes are preferable to deserting right past Elora while her husband dies. They step in around the staggering Lord and close ranks, stabalizing the wall of steel.

Somehow, Medeia keeps her cool in the face of all that is happening. From where she stands outside the media's tent, she stands as tall as her five-foot-one height allows and shouts, "Stand firm! Face our enemy! To run is to face worse than death. AN END TO THE TRAITOR!"

Tesha drives forward into the crash of the frontline, because there isn't really any going back after this. "FORWARD!" she calls to the crimson clad soldiers that had followed her here. She brings her thornweave weapon down, but one of the enemies manages to slash her in the process.

Jan bellows "FUCK YOU BETRAYER!! Today you pay for your treachery!" she then turns her bellows to trying to keep her cavalry on point, infantry cutting the cavalry some room while the lines get less crisp as the front lines get a better look at the monstrosity they're facing.

Eirene shakes her head to Desma. "Wait until the time is right. I don't want you hurting yourself in the opening bouts."

Adalyn gauntlet hand moves to briefly touch Vitalis beard when they kiss and then he is gone, her green eyes look back to the front line. "MEN! We are here to fight a man, remember that he just that! Not a god!" she straightens herself pulling her weapon to lead her mean into battle! "ALWAYS FAITHFUL! Move forward!"

Iliana winces when skittering things come into sight. Them as well as the moon and the book cause the woman to blink, not in disbelief but at the sheer amount of shit before them. "Well then!" she says more to herself than the army she is leading. "Here do go!" she announces loudly, even if the Leary army doesnt seem too interested in going anywhere neat the things she is commanding them towards.

"He lies and he lies." Pasquale calls from the lines. "But we know the truth. He is afraid. He sees us all here, ready to kill him, and he panics" he gestures towards the moon. "So convinced is he that he can win this day that the ritual he has been planning for years is being done Right This Moment. That is Proof of his fear. See it and know we have already taken our first steps towards victory!" he gestures to the other soldiers. The ones who have not yet quailed. "And see your comrades. Your fiends. You allies. Your rivals. The strength of the Compact. See them all lined up here today to beat him. Would you leave them to fight alone?!" he raises his sword at the end of that. The mirrorsilver line down the middle of the blade flaring red in the strange light. Expecting, and hopefully receiving, a shout of no in return to his words. His horse is nudged forward. Proof of his determination right there in his choice to advance.

Preston sees the Templars waver after his initial words. Preston quickly changes his approach, and he signals for his little command group to follow. The Carnifex moves through the Templar ranks towards the front, his hand lingering for a moment on those who begin to waver murmering soft encouragement as the Paladin of Gloria subtly seeks to strengthen their resolve. As he closes in on the front row, he turns to Balian and grabs his shield before he looks at Crusader "Well, my Goddess, it is time we see if the age of Paladins is to be a brief return or our salvation". He pauses, leaning against one of the signs facing Harrow Hall that says 'A'Kioh Lives' as he prepares for what comes next.

The explosive way that Sydney vaults into a sprint makes it all the harder to see the way her hands continue to tremble, and it's only with a fierce yell that she can muster the courage to keep to her charge as the frontlines smash into direct conflict with one another. "And /we/ bid your end!" The nimble fistfighter may not have the favorable conditions she's used to in order to fight one creature at a time, but today? It doesn't seem to matter. Thus far, she's striking above her weight class, her fist removing a creature's jaw before she weaves back to shove her hand through a chitinous abdomen. Things quickly get very gushy.

Benny gives a look around and then brings one of his massive paws up to bat at one of the skittering monstrosities that comes running over the front line. The Biggest Beaver is about to beat some bugs with prejudice.

"FUCK the Horned God," Thesarin calls as the enemy surges forward. He lifts up an arm and calls out over the soldiers. "All I had, once, he took from me. My people, my home, fell to darkness. I 'scaped with them who'd follow, and found a land of burned fields and mass graves--and stone by stone, nail by nail, seed by seed then with its new-sworn lady made a land proud and green and strong. So now he comes again, for my lands and my children and all I'd see stand beyond me. And fact is, I aint't much care for that. It don't sit well with me. I've got a mind to see things fucking otherwise!
"And if any of you lot feel the same, if there's aught in all this world that you care half a shit for--then hold your place and seel your bones, and see this to the end."

When Edris sees the fear wash over some of those nearby, he calls out swiftly. "Hold the line! Look to those beside you! Together!" And at least some of them don't actively retreat, but neither do many actively advance. He doesn't seem to be actively frustrated or concerned by that--given what they are facing. He does catch the gesture of his wife towards the front lines. His helm hides the expression, but he nods. And while he does follow, he nods to those troops as well--keeping pace with them as they advance, perhaps a little in front. An ask for a not-reckless rush it would seem--but he too seems eager to enter the fray.

"Today is the day." Mihaly says with his legion of Riven knights, drawing his blade the he saw made for just this day. "Today is the day we avenge Laveer Riven. Today is the day we avenge our family. Our home. Our friends. All those that were lost on the day of Hundred Pyres. We watched and we buried all those we cared about! Now Riven! Fight for glory. Fight for vengeance under a black sky. All those years of pain shall finally be repaid ten fold!"

Infiltration in the midst of mass combat is a bit of a numbers game; it's not really a question of absolutely nobody noticing you as much as noticing somebody who's going to notice you first and then dispatching them before they can tell any of their buddies about it. This is also complicated further when they and their buddies are technically all part of a single hive-mind and have a somewhat expedited tell-each-other process in place. It's hard to say Ferrando has yet to make much forward progress on this front beyond some initial attempts that end with a smashed bug and a retreat to find a different angle to try, but he hasn't been out and out spotted yet either.

Mihaly checks command and leadership at daunting. Mihaly is successful.

The ranks of veterans assembled in front of the Elfbone Throne hold steady, and Liara remains a prominent presence. The griffin launches into the sky from behind her, and she calls, "Stand fast! We end this today!" Actual specific orders on her part are relayed to officers and aides to carry to individual sections of the line. She glances up to the mural unfurled by Denica's soldiers, and even here, in the midst of battle, a brief smile touches Liara's features. She glimpses along to Eirene and Desma too, and concurs with the former, "Not yet."

Mihaly wields Vengeance, an alaricite knight's blade of retribution.

Desma has joined the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Liara has joined the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Jan's cavalry breaks, spreading apart and putting Jan and her Infantry in the thick of things. With another bellow promising come-uppance for the Betrayer, she leads the on-foot charge with the Legendary Glinting Gale finally back in action fighting the dark forces it was forged fight.

Fortunato has joined the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Denica has joined the Elfbone Throne Dais.

A roar goes up from the forces as they push against the skittering horde, slowly making bitter progress as templars, Grayson soldiers and Valardin knights lead the vanguard. A small dozen of green clad knights are shooting bows towards the gargantuans with inhuman range and accuracy, and a cry of, "FOR THE QUEEN!" goes up from the small contingent of sylv'alfar. Some of the gargantuans is annoyed by the attacks and begins making its way forward, and a particularly huge one appears to be pointing directly towards Preston. It might have been something he said.

((Frontline combatants can roll again, at hard difficulty this round. Stealth attempts to move to the Kindly Voices area will be at hard this round as well, or normal for anyone using magic.

For commanders, it'll be command + war (or similar) checks at daunting (hard if magical) to improve the capability of the troops, which is particularly relevant as the gargantuans start to fight.

Wounded are starting to pile, healers can roll intellect + medicine (or similar) checks at hard to help minimize losses))

Katarina checks command and war at daunting. Katarina fails.

Alis checks command and war at daunting. Alis is successful.

Vitalis checks dexterity and stealth at hard. Vitalis is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at hard. Kastelon is successful.

Eirene checks command and war at daunting. Eirene fails.

Macda checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Macda is successful.

Desma checks command and war at daunting. Desma is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Sydney marginally fails.

Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Liara is successful.

Ferrando checks dexterity and stealth at hard. Ferrando marginally fails.

Thea checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Thea is successful.

Harlex checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Harlex is successful.

Jeffeth checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Jeffeth is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Caspian is successful.

Skaldia checks dexterity and archery at hard. Skaldia is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja is successful.

Mabelle checks mana and intimidation at hard. Botch! Mabelle fails completely.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Lou marginally fails.

Ann checks intellect and medicine at hard. Ann fails.

Lucita checks mana and performance at daunting. Lucita marginally fails.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Botch! Mirk fails completely.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Botch! Mattheu fails completely.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

Denica checks mana and artwork at hard. Denica marginally fails.

Preston checks mana and medium wpn at hard. Preston is successful.

Fortunato checks wits and artwork at hard. Fortunato is successful.

Pasquale checks command and war at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Medeia checks command and leadership at daunting. Medeia fails.

Esme checks dexterity and stealth at hard. Esme fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Tesha fails.

Mihaly checks mana and leadership at hard. Mihaly is successful.

Drake checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Drake is successful.

Jan checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jan fails.

Thesarin checks command and war at daunting. Thesarin fails.

Aconite checks intellect and medicine at hard. Aconite fails.

Edris checks command and leadership at daunting. Edris fails.

Iliana checks command and leadership at daunting. Iliana is successful.

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Critical Success! Adalyn is spectacularly successful.

Raymesin checks command at normal. Raymesin marginally fails.


**********************************************************************
The Great Book of Endings looms higher in the sky, and across the world everyone can see a page turn to what speaks of a terrible ending for them- and all too often, one of eternal humbled service to Orichalcum the Horned God. One page of the book speaks of another great fire in Arx, and perhaps in the most petty of actions from an eternal enemy, a great blaze begins to burn in multiple places throughout Arx. There's a scramble to fight it, though the blaze is obviously supernatural and attacks the Iron Guard with wanton cruelty.

The moon already blood and looking like a skull, looks wet, as if flesh is beginning to form over the skull of the moon.
**********************************************************************


Vitalis checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Vitalis is successful.

Mihaly isn't sure if he's even capable of what he's trying to do, but he looks up at the sky during the chaos. "I hope you're watching, brother." And he holds his blade horizontal to chest, pulling his hand across the flat of the blade itself. As his hand drags across it, pinpoints of starlight emerges from the weapon. "Defend us now, I need the strength." These points of starlight snap away from the sword, flying off in various directions, intending to bat away or otherwise deflect incoming blows meant for others. The Old Riven Knight will, at the very least, try to protect others if able to.

Well, moving to the front line has its draw backs - Preston has to rely on the seraphs to manage the morale. Instead, he is left looking through a gap in the lines at a Gargantuan. With what might almost be a nervous breath, Preston forces himself to relax and he lifts Crusader. He places his hand upon the blade and says a quiet prayer. There is a small burst of light and then the blade begins to glow, a gentle vibrating akin to humming or distant choral music is heard and a smile breaks over Preston's features - that smile of finally working out something that has eluded you for so long. Preston steps in front of the Templar lines, and lifts his shield. "Oh, you had better use this distraction well, Shard. You grumpy spirit-lover." and then he raises his voice in challenge towards the Gargantuan "I know you are there Orichalcum. Do you not recognise me? A'kioh's soul lives, Orichalcum. It is free. /I/ am free. And I'm very, /very/ disappointed."

Mabelle notices something and begins to panic. At first she begins to run from it and then she pauses and turns to speak to the air, "NO! You answer to me! You do not harm me!", she looks up to the moon, looking mighty pissed but what she sees makes her grow even paler and she continues running.

Thesarin checks dexterity and stealth at hard. Thesarin fails.

Drake makes it to the front lines, and here already he does feel more at home, more assured. He's been learning to lead but the best way to lead for him has often been by his actions first, words later. The centipedes are the first to be cut. His blade sings through the air, shining under the dark moon's light as he cuts through some of the skittering hoarde. There's an impossible amount of them, but they CAN be driven back.

Skaldia checks dexterity and stealth at hard. Skaldia is successful.

Desma checks perception and animal ken at hard. Desma is successful.

Skaldia checks command and war at daunting. Skaldia fails.

Medeia's voice falters as she continues to try to encourage the soldiers around her to stand their ground against the enemy. She's made the mistake of looking up at the book in the sky, turning ghostly white at what she reads.

Macda launches herself with yet more ferocity into the melee, drunk off the fervor and fever of battle. Grinning from ear to ear behind her mask, she cackles madly as she grabs another centipede by the neck and punches its head to the right, snapping its spine with a crack that resounds even in the furor. Tossing its limp corpse, she raises her mailed hands and spins in a wild circle that bashes every creature within reach. Her azure eyes blaze with something beyond passion, beyond rage--pure, raw bloodlust.

The griffon has flown. Fortunato gets to the secondary part of his work. A brightly elaborate halo circles Liara's head, its light penetrating perhaps farther than it should -- well, there /shouldn't/ be a halo at all, granted. The sense of /light/ spears through the darkness. A beacon.

Aconite does her best to help transport those who need haling back to the tent but she's not doing so well. Still the Radiant continues to ride between the field and the tent along with Alejandro. The two seem determined to do what little they can.

Mattheu checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Mattheu is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Mattheu does not take a permanent wound.

The drawstring goes *TWANG* when Kastelon's letting the next arrow fly, and the soar of it demonstrates why it is just so Important to properly check the fletching of one's arrows. A third is already being brought to bear and loosed into the growing night, his single hazel not straying from what he's doing, even as that book is tempting the lifting of eyes from the scenes on the ground below.

The hive-minded creature ambles towards Raja and Raja launches herself at it. She slashes and dices at the vile thing, bloodying her blade and her leathers with the motions. The more she stabs, the more of a frenzy she goes into! Laughter erupts, sounding as if she is going a bit mad with the combat. "There will always be choice!" She calls out. "Just die! Praise be to Skald!"

There is something different this time when Iliana speaks towards those she leads. She straightens a little more, her chin lifts a little higher, and her voice carries a little further. Any fear that she felt has melted away and there she stands with her eyes focused and entire being prepared for whatever might be throw at them. Those of the Leary army seem to feed from the woman's strength and they too seem a bit more focused and a lot more ready than they were previously, fear all but gone to do what is needed regardless.

While the battle continues, princess Denica is sparkling with lights and colour. There's a lot of focus, and a sense that she's never done this before. Best time to test something dangerous out? Why, in the middle of chaos and battle. It's a bit overwhelming at times, and so while she is doing a very good impression of a glittery rainbow, she's having a harder time executing it with the same finesse she found earlier. Whispering quietly to herself, she says the words, 'art is truth, art is truth'.

Thea has grown stubborn and her eyes turn into slits. Her blade slices through effortlessly now, causing a smirk of satisfaction on her lips.

Lou's swing is not as sure or certain as it was upon first approach in the front lines, those gargantaun catching her attention and throwing her off. She lets out a long breath and a string of curses flies from her lips for becoming distracted, then she steels herself, squares her shoulders and tries to go in for a better attack, saving any further war cries for another time.

Triton regains balance and that grim look of annoyance, rejoining the Ravenseye front line and slashing outward with his metal claws, the bearlike arm driving the sharp points raggedly through three of the swarming creepy-crawlies. More gore because his House is not going to be out-splattered by any others! Hopefully, the example he and Rosa set on the line will spur their troops into the slaughter. Hopefully the slaughter of enemies...

Battles are noisy, so very noisy. Lucita tries to sing to help give the soldiers and templars an edge against the foes facing them, but this effort is drounded out. She draws breath and moves to a little different spot that hopefully will permit her voice to carry.

Marigold, a cheeky pygmy goat, Blade of the Last Midnight, a rabbit, Hunk, a giant squirrel arrive, following Amari.

Skaldia says, "Archers!" Skaldia calls to the Banshee archers as she sits the light cavalry mare, "Nock!" Some of them nock, but most of them are staring up at the sky and the moon, and are terrified by that large book spelling their doom. "Archers! Draw!" she shouts, and some of them maybe draw, but she's having a hard time holding them together. "Archers! Loose!" She releases her arrow which agains strikes her target, and a much smaller rain of black-fletched arrows falls upon the enemy horde, though a lot of her troops are showing signs of being afraid. Skaldia, however, seems focused and undaunted. While she fights, her eyes are glancing around, looking for any better openings to get through the Hedge, perhaps with a smaller force. In the chaos, she starts to break off from her troops, leaving them in the command of the Grayson army now, glancing to several soldiers to follow her, as she sidles Whiskey Dream toward an opening she spotted where she can sneak herself, and those who need to go, into the heart of the beast."

"For the Queen!" Thesarin shouts in chorus with the arrival of the wood-elves. He continues to shout directions to the soldiers, trying to keep the lines arranged against the terrible onslaught of the Horned God's power.

Pasquale has been drilling this group of Malespero soldiers for months and months in exercises meant to teach them just how to deal with threats like gargantuans and giant centipedes and other things. Most importantly nobody seems to need to wait for messengers at all - In fact Pasquale doesnt seem to have any. He points once a moment before a ballista fires a nasty harpoon like bolt in that direction. Cavalry wheels as if they see threats coming. With every moment that passes Pasquale just looks more comfortable - More confident - more like a conductor in the midst of an orchestra of blood and suffering and courage. And with each moment that passes men die - but so does the enemy.

"Archers!" Skaldia calls to the Banshee archers as she sits the light cavalry mare, "Nock!" Some of them nock, but most of them are staring up at the sky and the moon, and are terrified by that large book spelling their doom. "Archers! Draw!" she shouts, and some of them maybe draw, but she's having a hard time holding them together. "Archers! Loose!" She releases her arrow which agains strikes her target, and a much smaller rain of black-fletched arrows falls upon the enemy horde, though a lot of her troops are showing signs of being afraid. Skaldia, however, seems focused and undaunted. While she fights, her eyes are glancing around, looking for any better openings to get through the Hedge, perhaps with a smaller force. In the chaos, she starts to break off from her troops, leaving them in the command of the Grayson army now, glancing to several soldiers to follow her, as she sidles Whiskey Dream toward an opening she spotted where she can sneak herself, and those who need to go, into the heart of the beast.

Things start to get hairy on Sydney's particular stretch of the front lines - the tangle of unearthly creatures and the forces of Arx are bunching together quite heavily, and as a result, she's pressed for ways to strike out without getting herself in a further snarl. She's unable to make a significant contribution when she's quite so hemmed in, and she wastes the majority of her efforts trying to yank herself out of the crush.

Eirene falters. Perhaps she sees something in the Great Book which affects her. Perhaps it's her husband using starlight as a shield. Perhaps the sylv'alfar shooting and calling out for a queen. Or maybe it's the moon... But it could be the death and pain unfolding before her. She issues no orders and tries to regain her focus, shaking her head and whatever clouds it aside.

Mattheu is overwhelmed, knocked to the ground and stabbed at. He's barely able to crawl backwards before a slice is taken at his arm and across chest. Rivenshari come to his aide pulling the lord back from the fight. Taking to surround him so they might get a chance to fight further.

Katarina grimaces as the battle begins in earnest, and the men and women she lead collide with the Horned God's forces. It's not a particularly graceful collision, nor is it an inspiring one, as fighters in Valardin colors are cut down and trampled. "Hold the line!" Katarina cries, but she's already several soldiers down and stuck trying to do more with less.

Raymesin's army of bone rattles onwards and into the foe, with the Paladin of Death himself, larger than life, striding at the fore. The dead have joined the fray, and they have no fear to prey upon. They have just the determination to slaughter the forces of the Horned God, and end his existence.

Mirk speaks again, calling out to the elements, and this time the answer isn't favorable. Instead of a howl of wind or other displays of elemental power, there's a growing alarm on his face. He starts speaking faster, holding a hushed conversation with...something. He's moving closer to the front, now, almost frantic, though what could be prompting such a reaction isn't immediately clear. The conversation seems to be taking something out of him - he's paler, he's breathing heavy, as if he's been doing heavy fighting already.

Thea briefly looks over her shoulder, checking on her family. Her friends. Always checking.

Jan wades into the fray and is swiftly overwhelmed but manages to fling off the worst of it though it impedes her ability to attack again as she regains her bearings and her breath, some blood staining her armor.

Esme attempts to pull back at this point and shift the weight of her form to start inching away from the battle. Her attempts to move to some other part of the hub.

Ferrando is still, infiltrationally speaking, yet to really find a path through the semi-literal swarm to operate more freely behind the lines, but also yet to draw any significant attention he can't handle either. Still, the fringes are thinning out, so the going seems a bit easier. Perhaps the next time... or perhaps he'd better pull back and bolster the regular forces with losses starting to pile up.

Edris continues to add his voice to others who are trying to shout for those to move forward--though when he looks up and sees the talk of supernatural fire spreading throughout arx, his heart goes into his throat at the thought of the living treasures still residing there. His shout dies for a moment, his gaze directed upwards instead of fowards. But then he shakes his head, taking a deep breath as if there's a certain sound or song filling his ears, and this one has his feet moving again. "The leaves of the trees reach up to the sky, as their roots reach down to the deep dark earth," it's a soft chant at first but it keeps him moving, eyes fixed where they should be instead of up at the sky, more determined than before, despite that he hasn't rallied those around him.

Adalyn gives out a battle cry as she moves in, the well trained warrior/Champion moves in with no fear in her eyes, those who should be scared are those in front of her that she is attacking. Her spear coming down and tabbing into thing, spotting Mattheu close to her she moves to try and help kill whatever was hitting him, she is breathing deeply but she is energized as well.

There is /light/ emanating from around Liara, courtesy of Fortunato, and it turns her into a literal beacon on the field, Elvesbane still in hand as she stands there before the Elfbone Throne, Denica's banner raised high behind it, with yet more colour and light. The densely arrayed ranks of soldiers ahead of them hold fast - their whole purpose being to maintain that line while the numerous catapults behind it pummel the approaching gargantuans. "Stand fast," she calls once more. "Let them shatter upon our line."

Vitalis reappears at Adalyn's side, Defiance cracking as he strikes and snares, drags enemies off of their feet for Adalyn to stab. Harrying Harrow Hall's forces.

Desma steps next to Eirene and lays a hand on the General's forearm. "You are alright," she murmurs, giving a squeeze before she starts bellowing orders left and right, directing troops and archers to new locations and targets, using her position next to General Eirene and Highlord Liara to gain legitimacy. She's of Malvici blood too dammit and this is what they do! She makes up for Eirene's faltering, indeed, making it look like she is relaying orders from the General.

Ann has been keeping her post. Letting those on the boat know there are wounded and if the medic tent is overwhelmed to make room for the injured. Only for her to turn and look out in the field. "NOooooooo." She saw Mattheu fall to the ground. She tries to get off the boat to run to him as told but there are others here with her that prevent her telling her he's being taken care of by the Rivenshari on the field and she can be heard saying loudly, "Bullshit!"

Caspian continues on the front line, slashing his way into the bugs and mindless thralls in splatters of gore. "bugs is all you have? I have know beekeepers who could muster more than this!"

Mabelle clears her throat at Caspian's cry.

The front pushes back against the centipede horde, with the Grayson troops unshakeable as they look towards the Elfbone Throne, and the light from it radiates over the darkened battlefield. With the push of the soldiers, and from scouting above, a path to get through closer to Harrow Hall appears but is fleeting, as the gargantuans are thundering forward to try to cover any gaps that appear.

Above the book begins to radiate black light, and an unearthly howl is heard over the battlefield, much like a wolf song but from many inhuman twisted throats. A song to bid the moon awaken.

((For this round due to some successes, weapon checks are at normal, and stealth checks are at easy. On a successful stealth check, someone can move to the Kindly Voices room if they desire. If the stealth check fails, they can make a stamina + athletics roll at daunting to hoof it- will still get there, but might get ripped up in the process and risk death.

Battle commanders and healers can still roll this round at hard (or normal for magic) aggregating successes and failures.))

Desma suddenly goes unsteady on her feet, her eyes rolling back. She clings blindly to Eirene as her viewpoint shifts dramatically and she whimpers briefly at the magnitude of it all. "Too much...' she whispers before she starts speaking louder to Eirene and Liara. "I can see a route. Undefended... We can get a strike force through..."

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at normal. Kastelon is successful.

Onida, a boglands wolf-hound have been dismissed.

Due, a tireless Whitehawk hound have been dismissed.

Josse, a sharp-eyed Whitehawk falcon have been dismissed.

2 Whitehawk Guards have been dismissed.

Molly, a youthful Stormheart Bear Dog have been dismissed.

Mirk checks mana and occult at normal. Mirk is successful.

Pasquale checks command and war at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Esme checks dexterity and stealth at easy. Esme is successful.

Katarina checks command and war at hard. Katarina fails.

Joy, the advisor of roses leaves, following Esme.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Caspian is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Sydney is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Lou is successful.

Vitalis checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Botch! Vitalis fails badly.

Harlex checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Harlex is successful.

Skaldia dismounts from Whiskey Dream, and hands the reins of the horse off to one of the Banshees with some regret. "You can't go where I'm going, Whiskey. Felicia would be proud of you," she murmurs to the horse, resting her forehead against the horse's forelock. Then she draws a deep breath, nods to the others with her, and starts creeping all stealthy like, through the chaos with her dark eyes focused with deadly intent, keeping an eye out for any dangers. She swallows hard, hearing the screams of the dying all around her, but she stays focused. Meanwhile, Libera continues to circle above, giving off a lonely 'Scree!' beneath the lurid light of the blood-red moon, before swooping down to perch on Skaldia's upraised gloved arm. Soon, they're gone, somehow managing to avoid notice of the gargantuans and the creepies.

Eirene checks command and medicine at normal. Eirene is successful.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at normal. Mabelle is successful.

Libera, a quiet hawk leaves, following Skaldia.

Thea checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Thea is successful.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Critical Success! Mattheu is spectacularly successful.

Liara checks command and leadership at normal. Liara is successful.

Mihaly checks mana and leadership at normal. Mihaly is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Triton is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Tesha is successful.

Preston checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Preston is successful.

Jeffeth checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Jeffeth is successful.

Raymesin checks dexterity and stealth at easy. Raymesin is successful.

Drake checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Botch! Drake fails badly.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Botch! Raja fails badly.

Fortunato checks wits and artwork at hard. Fortunato is successful.

Denica checks mana and artwork at normal. Denica is successful.

Macda checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Critical Success! Macda is spectacularly successful.

Thesarin checks dexterity and stealth at easy. Thesarin is successful.

Ann checks intellect and medicine at hard. Ann fails.

Symonesse has joined the Medics Tent.

Medeia checks intellect and medicine at hard. Critical Success! Medeia is spectacularly successful.

Harlex slices through the innumerable legs, the mandibles, other horrible appendages and at the very least he can see the enemy amidst the chaos for their ugly and alien appearance. The gore of insects, however, is much less pleasant than the familiar warmth of human blood. Though the Nametaker probably has less to consider, its a give and take.

Desma checks command and war at hard. Botch! Desma fails completely.

Iliana checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Iliana is successful.

Alis checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Alis is successful.

Edris checks command and leadership at hard. Edris fails.

Jan checks command and war at hard. Jan is successful.

The closer they get, the easier it is to shoot, and... Kastelon is clearly keeping up the rate of flinging-forth of arrows, not a look up or down the line. Not a step of retreat, even as he's clearly starting to gauge when he need switch to his blade, with the concern for the proximity of those who might deal harm. "Stand fast!" Shouts he, as if there need be reminder of such a thing. And as if his own standing firm in spot isn't sign of intention to others nearer to him.

Thesarin checks command and war at hard. Thesarin is successful.

Ferrando checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Ferrando is successful.

Insaya checks dexterity and small wpn at easy. Insaya is successful.

Lucita checks mana and performance at hard. Lucita is successful.

Aconite checks intellect and medicine at hard. Aconite is successful.

Leading the Templar charge, Preston barrels into the gargantuan approaching - the glowing blade of Crusader finding bloated flesh as he tries to push forward. He uses his shield almost as a ram, thudding it into the flesh of the enemy as he tries to create an opening to bring Crusader around "At least it is not Geese this time." he pants before yelling up "We are coming, Orichalcum. The Templars have ever come for ungodly usurpers." Preston seems a lot quicker, even in his hefty armour, as he batters around the gargantuan.

Eirene nods sharply to Liara at something says quiet and she holds Desma up as she starts to bark new orders to the battle medics as she deploys them. "Heron's Wing! Phoenix Brigade! You know your roles! You know what I expect. Go do your fucking jobs!" Eirene's gravel-rough voice rings out. She radiates confidence, determination. There's a desire to FIX what's broken, to save the suffering that almost echoes from her voice. "GO!" She closes her eyes and when she opens them, there's a sort of golden glow to them. Not quite like Liara's glow, but she shines with her own fierce light.

Insaya skids in with her small rubicund weapon clutched in her fist, getting between the oncoming foes and those forms already beginning to topple, injured, so that the medics can get to them. All she has to do is be a barrier. A pitifully small stone can still bruise the largest of feet.

Raymesin was at the head of the army of bone, leading his troops into the fray - but then he isn't. The black-clad man vanishes into the shadows, leaving the bone army to fight without him. They don't seem to mind, carrying the fight to the foe regardless.

The light around Liara /flares/ as the book radiates its own dark light, its fervid tendrils, its desire for /fate/. Fortunato, too, is lit up, as from within, his eyes burnished, feverish gold, the lines on his hands and arms like white-heated wire. The light extends upward past Liara, skyward, as if in a war-with-images with the book. "Enough, enough, /enough/," Fortunato barks. "You've had your day, Orichalcum! You've burnt enough people and dreams and /Orders/, it is /enough/."

Triton roars a challenge at the swarm of squishies and swings one arm, then another the thick thews driving his curved metal claws into the swarm almost without aiming. its and pieces (of the enemy fly away along with nasty fluids as he takes a step forward. To either side of him, the Ravenseye armor keeps pace with blurs of swords, axes and hammmers punctuated by battle cries to echo the young Lord's bruin yells. Somewhere in the rear, Lady Elora is likely directing the units to keep things strong and off to one side Rosa and other beserkers are also roaring and swinging, spraying bug goo--and human goo--about.

Mihaly pours himself in defending their forces, enough that makes his eyes appear like pools of the night sky. More motes of starlight streak away from his sword, zipping this way and that, deflecting blows meant for other soldiers and perhaps giving them time to dodge to ortherwise react before a fatal blow can be struck. The blade has turned into a blade made of night, twinkling stars flittering off the metal and shooting away like some kind of firefly. "I hear you, Laveer. It wasn't meant for nothing. You will be avenged today, we'll make sure of it. Your daughter will make sure of it."

Katarina is well aware that with battle comes death. Casualties are only unavoidable in the most spectacular and blessed of circumstances. The more of Katarina's troops fall, the more this truth is ground into her face. She grits her teeth, refusing to back down or retreat, but inside, she's saying prayers.

Tesha expected it to get bloody and for it to happen quickly. She's slashing with Red Thorn and trying to make sure that she's not going to have to back up. There wasn't really room to either. The bugs get their due though with thornweave cutting through them as she tries to thin down an impossible amount of bodies and legs.

Not from the main warcamp, but from the woods beyond issues first the tortured creaking of trees and the crackle snap of many branches yielding under crushing weight. It may not be as good as bugles and drums, but it serves the same purpose: to herald the arrival of House Redire. Leading the way is Amari, ahead of a wave of rippling and dipping tree tops that shed branches in a rain. With her, a cadre of knights, archers and swift skirmishers all in green and black, wearing the bare white tree sigil of the ancient house. Behind her, finally, emerges caterpillars of ridiculous HUGE size. Bigger than houses, each one, their many legs propel them out onto the field before the hedge that they seem to eye hungrily. Mandibles click eagerly, and Amari gives a cheer as a giant squirrel bounds out after her.

Aconite's starting to get the hang of riding to gather the fallen and stabalize them as she and Alejandro return them to the medical tent tent and then goes out for more.

Thesarin gives his directions, words of encouragement, and commands to the armies. He steps back, and turns toward Mihaly and his glittering sword. "...I've got to go to her. See it through." He looks toward Mihaly and Eirene, and takes in a deep breath. "I hope to meet again, in this life. But if we ain't, I'm glad of all we got."

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Adalyn is successful.

Mirk stops his advance, a look of pure relief on his face, but only for a moment. Then it's all cold determination, despite his obvious fatigue, dark circles underneath his eyes and skin pale. He calls out again, as a great humanoid figure made of pure lightning begins to do battle against the gargantuans, and Mirk is there to support the lightning elemental, his freezing winds buffeting and slowing its foes - if only by a little, for the smallest of moments. Just enough to create opportunities for that lightning elemental to do what it does best.

That rattling of the nerves was only temporary for Lou. She's gathered her strength once more and has rallied back to the thick of things. "AAAAAHHHHHH!" she screams at the nearest set of monsters, cleaving them with Pathfinder, her alaricite blade. "YOU WILL NOT WIN TODAY!" she screams at them, doing her best to also stay out of the way of any appendages or weapons that might be flying her way in return. She stands her ground, fighting arm in arm with her various comrades in battle.

Jan bellows "RALLY! Infantry regroup and sally forth! FORWARD!" she herself falls into line, her primary focus on redirecting the attention of her soldiers so they don't fall apart and scatter.

Liara, hearing Desma's guidance, briskly dispatches an aide to relay the message.

Then, with that gap in the line having been created, however briefly, Liara seeks to increase the pressure on the forces of the Horned God. She calls fresh orders. "Advance! Press forward!"

Her next words are not for the army, but for any of the enemy who might even have ears: "Is this it, Orichalcum? I come bringing your ruin! Is this truly all that you can summon?" The light flares around her, and the densely-formed ranks of soldiers start to advance, if they can.

Macda looks up to the light that washes over the Grayson troops, tracking it to its source with her eagle eyes. Though obscured by her long, wickedly curved beak, she flashes Liara an explosively brilliant smile before whipping back around to engage an encroaching gargantuan. "You want me, mother-fucker," she growls viciously through clenched teeth and takes one swift, decisive step forward, raising her fists. She strikes it thrice in rapid succession, first in the face, then at its neck, then at the first vulnerable point she spots in its armor. When it makes a clumsy attempt at a swing for her, she ducks under its blow, leaps, and slams her head forward, impaling its eye with the tip of her beak. She rips away and falls back to the ground, the screams of the creature and its shower of blood following her.

With a firm shake of her head, Medeia turns away from the book in the sky and focuses hard. At the medic tent, people are being brought, and she knows how to handle /this/. The Phsyician moves right into her natural state - healing people - with ease amidst the chaos.

Denica stands in front of the massive mocking banner her soldiers hold. The Thrax princess is here to fight the darkness, she's using everything within her. There's a moment where her eyes are bright and warm and then they go cold and icy, there's a new-found confidence in her. The battle rages on, but she focuses on what she is doing, on that connection. Denica fights with her heart and soul. A war within her, that she tosses at someone else for a change. "Look at what you've done!," she shouts out and hits back with a glittery sparkles of light, whatever images they carry are for those that fall victim to it, but otherwise it's just a beautiful display of colour.

Caspian continues his press forward, soldiers alongside him as the compact pushes forward. his knives are a blur of death and chopped bug as he fights on " forward brothers and sisters! forward for our future!!"

The starry eyes of Mihaly turn to Thesarin aiming to make his move. "Go. I would stand you with, but." He's needed here. "Bring my niece home, Thesarin. And if not, I will save a drink with you. Go, my brother. It has been an honor."

Oura, a white-tailed eagle, Valor, a juvenile male Oakhaven Bloodhound, 2 Greenwood Tribe Blood Warriors leave, following Thesarin.

Mabelle really should be helping the medics, but she's on a tree. And the disobedience annoys her. Because she's an Oathlander. WE DONT DO THAT HERE. The bees over her head annoys her too. She shushes them, sheaths her sword and now two of her hands are up at the moon, making some waving motions as she tries to concentrate, taking deep breaths. Focusing.

Mattheu manages to get back to his feet, hand to back of his soldiers as he pushes them to seek a wall and press through the bugs and walking dead. Keeping a close look to those around him a glint of steel to see the Cullers being swarmed. Tapping to the backs of two in front of him the rest of the Rivenshari infantry seeks to push forwards into the fray as Mattheu cuts through the battle seeking to help Raja Culler from the hoard.

Ferrando decides sneaking isn't all that useful if we all don't keep the main thrust's momentum up first, and redeployes himself to step up past some retreating injured soldiers to fill the gap with a bash of his mace that crushes one bug-thing and smashes it into a second bug-thing. Glancing a bit side-to-side at the undead fighters in his vicinity, he gets a bit of a large goofy grin as he quickly readjusts his helmet. "Hey, didn't I meet you at the Siege of Arx?" he chats up a random skeleton in between hefty swipes of his mace. "You know Bob the Rotting? Did he make it out here? Great guy, Bob."

Lucita has tried to help block the waves of fear but as the battle is more closely engaged, she sings battle hymns to help boost and inspire more efficient attacks as groups and individuals. Her voice carries through the battlegrounds to reach more. A quick glance upward is given and into the song she sings an additional few lines.
"Forward, Now is our chance,
End this ritual before too late,
Show those creatures how swords can dance,
Show them we choose our fate!"

The ebb and flow of combat means that the pressure alleviates organically as bodies fall - either the allies around her, or the enemies that batter against the front lines. Sydney presses her advance, getting back into the swing of things with fiercely pinpointed defensive attacks to any that threaten to break the front lines. Not having a large weapon to manage makes this something she's quite qualified to handle without sowing disorder in the ranks of her allies. "His Story is not ours! We write our own endings! This is our Dream, not his!"

Desma tries to explain what she can see from her bird's eye view and give more suggested troop movements but the shifting osprey high above distracts her enough to impart anything of use beyond what she has done already.

The longer the battle continues, the calmer Lord Pasquale Malespero seems to become. The lines around him a bastion of order and meticulous control. Subtle shadows start to flicker half-seen in the air around him, each one spooking his horse until he finally steers the animal up to a new vantage point and dismounts. A single thwack on the animals rump all that is required to convince it to get away from the blood and the suffering.

It wasn't long before Raja began to get swarmed! surrounded by monsters and hive-minded twisted creatures, she turns from offensive to defensive! Her blade rises up to catch a blade coming down towards her, metal meeting metal. The strength of her opponent seems to be slowly overcoming the Culler woman, who growls in defiance of the blighted thing. But, one of the enemy manages to get right behind her, a blade aimed true to take the woman down.. but.. That blade is met with Mattheu's blade, essentially saving her life! Together, they are able to take down the opponents here. Once dispatched, Raja looks to Mattheu, a look of gratitude on her features. "Fucking brilliant!" She says tot he man, flashing a bright smile. "I owe you!"

He got up. Mattheu got up. Ann can breathe. Standing at the ready for whatever is to come next. All that distraction out on the field makes her not the best healer so she's just going to keep watch. But if that medic tent overflows there are boats here that will take the wounded.

Iliana would never bark orders without being front and center of her people and with a last reminder to the Leary soldiers to never break, they charge into the fray. She swings her sword as if an extention of metal itself.

Insaya feels the well of her rage begin to bubble up under that bloody red glow from the sky, mottled beneath the eyes of that fleshy moon. As her fist darts into insectile parts, and comes away coated in ichor, she sees and yet does not, and keeps going forward. And she thinks of all the allies as the spreading, throbbing embers of a fire bound toward a central mass of brush which flame will cleanse. And in the back of her mind too, she sees the faces that she can remember of those that got them here, but did not survive to stand with them. Lives stolen, but not without purpose.

Alis may, at some point, have to step back and help guide the troops; but for the moment, with the given tactics proving to help them push through, she surges forward into the front lines. A glint of metal whips out in front of her in an arc as she finally gets the chance to draw blood (ichor?) from the enemy and join the other knights in battle. For now.

Jeffeth fights on!

Drake swings that unnamed blade again and strikes at another centipede bearing down on him. Unfortunately for him, the blood and muck already building underfoot causes his swing to go too wide, and he trips over himself. He drops to a knee, momentarily vulnerable in the clash and unable to get another strike on the enemy. The chaos, the dark of the moon, it's all limiting his visiblity. He struggles to get back into the fight.

Vitalis falls prey to one of the risks of fighting as he does. An enemy snares his whip and yanks him off of his feet. He staggers forward and narrowly misses getting gutted. Ripping a dagger from an arm sheath, he resheathes it in the chest of his foe, gritting teeth and jabbing up. Falling away, he is shaken, angry. Close calls on a battlefield defy counting, but that one was TOO close. Something or someone is looking out for him. He murmurs a prayer of thanks and collects himself to find Adalyn again. There she is. He weaves his way to her.

Edris continues to try to keep as much of their troops surging forward with them, though there's another grin as he sees his Highlord charging into the fray. As bug and body parts start flying and ichor and blood sprays more thickly the closer they get to the heart of the battle though, his voice is drawn out by screams both twisted and human--and largely the people who keep moving forward near him are probably those who would have held anyway. But he keeps himself positioned so that he can dart forward to help guard Alis' back as she begins to take her first swings.

There's a brief pause in the violence as the front manages to push in a fierce melee against the centipede creatures, and even starting to flank and pin the swarm of them against the side of the hedge, inflicting grevious casualties and slaughtering most of them. The things don't need fear, and would never retreat, so they inflict ruinous losses in exchange as numerous Compact soldiers are dragged down and torn apart even while trying to end the push of the Horned God's skittering monsters. The gargantuans are beginning their attack now, bringing their massive tree sized clubs down again and again upon the battlefield. One has his ankle torn into by a giant beaver (?) leaping onto it, while sylv'alfar swarm another with magic and swords. The largest though is chasing Preston, while being poked at by Crusader and looking more enraged than hurt. The undead horde summoned by Volcica and commanded by Raymesin are marching forward, and a zombie named Bob the Rotting jumps on a gargantuan's head, beating down upon it before being flung free as a shadow seems to be summoned from the earth and pull the gargantuan right into the ground. The gargantuans are trying to smash their way towards Liara and the Elfbone Throne, attempting to crush an image of Compact resolve at the direction of the Horned God.

There's a buzzing sound, and a green mist begins to flow over the battlefield, carrying with it sickness and death. An attack from the Horned God himself upon the Compact forces.

((OOC: This round, the frontline can hold with weapon checks at daunting (hard if magic), or withdraw to a more defensive spot along the elfbone throne and just fight the effects of the horned god's magic (stamina + survival at normal, easy if magic, double checks and choose better for anyone with Medeia's talismen). Anyone with magical abilities can push against his spell with hard checks of your magic.

Helping the troops not break are leadership rolls and medicine rolls to help with the injured.))

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk marginally fails.

Fortunato checks wits and artwork at hard. Fortunato is successful.

Drake checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Drake fails.

Jan checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Jan fails.

Pasquale checks composure and occult at hard. Pasquale marginally fails.

Mihaly checks mana and leadership at hard. Mihaly is successful.

Vitalis checks dexterity and huge wpn at daunting. Vitalis marginally fails.

Macda checks mana and performance at hard. Macda is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at daunting. Caspian fails.

Alis checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Alis is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at daunting. Kastelon is successful.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Lou checks stamina and survival at normal. Lou is successful.

Lucita checks mana and performance at hard. Lucita is successful.

Edris checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Edris fails.

Jeffeth checks stamina and survival at normal. Jeffeth is successful.

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Adalyn fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Sydney is successful.

Thea checks stamina and survival at normal. Thea is successful.

Thea checks stamina and survival at normal. Thea is successful.

Triton checks stamina and survival at normal. Triton is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at daunting. Botch! Raja fails completely.

Harlex checks mana and occult at hard. Harlex is successful.

Ferrando checks stamina and survival at normal. Critical Success! Ferrando is spectacularly successful.

Preston checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Preston is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Tesha fails.

Denica checks mana and artwork at hard. Denica is successful.

Insaya checks mana and occult at hard. Insaya is successful.


**********************************************************************
Above the book in the sky, there's a flash of light- much like lightning in a stormcloud, though as the sun dipped it was a clear night. One by one, the stars flicker out, as if fleeing something, and even the skull-like moon's eyes seem to turn to look at something above the book. Above the book, there's the outline of three great winged figures, a radiant outline in the darkness, from which even the stars flee.
**********************************************************************


Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Liara is successful.

Medeia checks intellect and medicine at hard. Critical Success! Medeia is spectacularly successful.

Katarina checks mana and occult at hard. Katarina marginally fails.

Eirene checks command and medicine at hard. Eirene fails.

Iliana checks command and leadership at hard. Iliana is successful.

Desma checks perception and animal ken at hard. Desma fails.

Jeffeth makes a tactical decision to fall back from the looming mist. He grumbles something about fart magic as he takes a defensive position, awaiting another opportunity to dive into the fray.

Pasquale checks composure and occult at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Jan seems to have eyes on the back of her eyes or somehow seems to respond to threats as soon as they crop up but her attention is spread thin with fighting and trying to command with now gargantuans and sickly mist joining. She does not retreat but she turns and points her men to the throne, indicating they should remain back. There's a sharp cry as she turns back around to swing at another foe-and again Gale fails to find flesh to cleave.

Lucita checks mana and performance at hard. Botch! Lucita fails badly.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Mattheu is successful.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Mattheu marginally fails.

Drake pulls himself back to his feet. He's free now, but sees the line is starting to fall back - why? He missed what was happening. But then suddenly a green mist starts to wash across the battlefield. He starts to cough as this fills his helmet. He can't get another good blow in. He'll have to fall back with the defensive line, but he stands his ground a bit longer nonetheless as the noxious fog begins to roll.

Aconite checks charm and seduction at hard. Aconite is successful.

Lucita eyes that horrid mist and closes her eyes, seeming to seek strength and inspiration. Her voice rings out as she opens them once more attempts to send it rebounding on its source or at a minimum to help disrupt it. She sings onward, with determination and a 'You're not getting by with this on my people' expression.

Preston continues running underneath the Gargantuan and worrying it with Crusader - the glowing blade tearing at its flesh. Of course, being actively engaged with a gargantuan rather prevents retreating to easier positions, so Preston stays at the front - that lovely little glowing point as the green haze advances. "Hold, Brothers! Hold, Sisters" He calls out - his breath a little ragged from all this fighting "Each moment we hold, gives the others a moment more to get to safety!"

"They're coming," Eirene says ominously as she looks to the sky. She looks down at the soldiers falling back to their position. Including the medics who pull people to the tent. "Get back, get the wounded back from the cloud," she shouts, but she's drowned out by the chaos of battle this time.

Hundreds of Names swirl within Harlex's soul, taken from countless battles; for good or ill. He is a tomb for these Names, gathering them like a harvester on behalf of the Queen. The sword in his hand is a gift from that very same goddess and through it, he'll channel those Names and those stories and those lives as a bulwark against the oppression of that dread magic.

Katarina keeps praying as she tries to hold firm, both physically in the battle and spiritually. The prayers start to come out loud, too, murmured in Eurusi. As more soldiers fall around her, as her blue leathers become slicked with the blood of others, Katarina tries to harness her will. "Please -- Father -- Mother -- Petraea," she hisses. Her fingernail seems to flicker in the moonlight for a moment, but that's probably just a trick of the eye.

Mabelle notices the gargantuan get sucked into the earth and cries to no one in particular, "Ah-ha!". And then Mabelle does as Mabelles do. She gets cocky and goes down into the battle field and tries to do it again. Seems like its working. Its not what SHE WAS TRYING TO DO, but its helping. Right? Right?

Triton growls over his shoulder as the Ravenseye horns blow assembly from the direction of the Elfbone Throne. Yanking once on Rosa's shoulder, he begins withdrawing to the new defensive line as ordered by the Lady Elora. Probably not good to disobey leadership commands from one's wife and primary medic if one wishes to get any sleep after the battle! Slowly and likely in acceptable order, the House army begins to interlock with the other units at the Throne area, joining the effort to stand firm while magic and tree giants close in.

As much as his little motes of starlight might be helping, it's not enough. And upon seeing the encroaching green mist, there's a particular falling out feeling in Mihaly's stomach. "More. There needs to be more." And while a glance upwards gives him more fear than the mist might, they must hold. He pulls his hand across his blade again, and the Old Riven Knight steps forward, letting starlight coalesce on his blade before it expands, and pushing outward. Like a wall or veil made of starlight that attempts to push back whatever foul magic is being put upon them. "Not today." he grunts with grit teeth. "For my family. Not. Today."

Insaya murmurs at the outline in the sky, "The Kindly Ones..." but has to redirect her flagging attention toward the oncoming rush of death. They all swore to hold until the last, and beyond if necessary. The embers in her mind at least glow, reaching for the arms of the nearest salvageable fallen body, to lift and help them on. "Be with me, here, aunt... Courage," she grits out, and

Fortunato's eyes flicker. He looks over the battlefield, and a touch of bemusement crosses his face, but then two things happen in succession. First, a dire green mist. The light around Liara flares, no, it flares again, brighter, the edges harder. The dias around the throne entire, lit up. And then there's the winged figures over the book. "Ah. Ah, gods," he finally says. "Here we go."

"Well, frack." Lou calls out as not only are the gargantaun coming forward but now the Traitor has sent magical gunk out into the world. "FALL BACK!" she calls out to those nearby, doing the same herself. "GET OUT OF THE MAGIC CLOUD." She moves to a more defensible position and takes a stand where she thinks she might be able to wait out the magical cloud before going back in. She readies her sword, waiting to swing at the next creature that comes her way in the meantime.

Noticing the mist, Thea draws back. And quickly! She runs as fast as she can,"Draw back,"she yells and goes to help the best she can.

Amari checks command and animal ken at hard. Amari is successful.

Jan checks stamina and survival at normal. Jan is successful.

Alis stays with her troops, holding the line despite the noxious cloud suddenly assaulting them. "You will not break us!" The shout during battle meant to bolster those beside her, as she lifts her dragonscale shield to bash it against whatever creature is suddenly there in front of her, and then swing the flail in an arc next to try and take it down.

There's no holding back at this point and Denica lets herself go, she embraces everything she is. It cumulates into a frenzy of light and sparkle, it's pretty, but it's also vicious. The princess hits back hard with the reality of the situation, feeling the effects of which course through her.

For the first time since the battle began Pasquale truly dips into his newfound magic, gathering a swirling miasma of energy drawn up from the battle around them, and casting it in a web across the sky meant to hold back the mist. Most of it holds, little wisps of deadly mist seeping through, but Pasquale slowly inhales, drawing more and more of whatever that is to him, before sending it up to reinforce whatever that is.. and this time it holds.

Somewhere in the midst of her ride Aco sees the sickly green haze begin to form and envelope those fighting for the throne. Aco gives her passenger to Alejandro before gripping her knife and taking a breath. She trusts her War Mount to keep her safe for the time being as black eyes seem to glaze over and she starts to speak softly in some elvish tongue or another. It looks as if she's gripping her dagger so tightly with her effort that blood starts to drip down the blade.

Adalyn was caught a bit off guard at seeing Vitalis get pulled forward and almost get gutted, rage rolls through her as she moves in to continue to fight the enemy, she will not back down she has fought harder and longer before! She swings but misses as she lets out a growl as she looks to try and see who is around her and where is Vitalis!

A shudder ripples down Macda's spine. With her immediate foes felled, she glances upward once, enough to register the assault and calculate her response. The princess falls as motionless as stone, her aquiline mask tipped skyward, and from beneath its beak, her voice pours like molten sunshine out across the battlefield, mingling in effortless harmony with Lucita's. Mostly, she vamps and lilts several hair-raising scales between minor and major key, improvising an intermittent chant: "You will not have us, you will not take us."

Thea has left the Medics Tent.

People that she's held the line with throughout the fight are ripped from her defenses, lost in a sea of teeth and rent flesh and limbs. The pugilist shores up her shoulders and seizes one of the charging centipedes and holds its thrashing body in place as it snaps and screeches at her. In reaction, she spits in its snapping mouth as the defenders to her flanks rip it to pieces with their blades and spears, the retreating caustic mist swirling around their ankles.

Mattheu pulls at Raja's collar to ensure she's on her feet again, with Rivenshari guards to their flank he pushes forwards even with whatever is diving towards them. A quick check of his armor as he continues to drive into battle. Lifting scarves to cover over his face leaving only a small slit to see through. His head down with a watchful eye for anything that might seek to attack in the push through the cloud.

Medeia's attention is caught by the green cloud, and she starts scrambling within the medic area to make room for people to fall back without trampling those laid out on makeshift cots. As she works, she allows herself one moment to stare at the Kindly Voices before gritting her teeth and turning back to her charges with unbound determination.

No glance towards the sky - Kastelon watches, more, when one of the gargantuans is sucked into the ground, but matters more mundane are a larger problem. There Is No Yield. No retreat. The Keaton huntsman turns to loose an arrow into another of those approaching horde, before he pulls a cloth up over his mouth at the sight of the haze and shouts anew. "FORWARD! DEATH TO THE ENEMY!" Does it seem like a good idea? No.
Does he have other ideas how to perhaps draw attention away from those fighting closer to the throne? Also no.

Desma tries to get another good look at the battlefield from above but finds her connection with Splinter breaking as the osprey banks away from the mist and battle. Desma shakes her head, trying to refocus and her lips curl, revealing bared teeth. "Damn it," she curses, drawing an arrow and nocking it ready for a target threatening the elfbone throne.

"We do not back down!" Iliana comands the army once again from within the battle itself, lifting her sword high to be a visual to her statement as the gunk on slithering enemy goop covers the blade while those around her continue to fight and push forward.

Tesha is pushing forward with the Red Thorn. She has one goal in mind and if she doesn't get home...well, she doesn't get home. She gives a rallying cry to the soldiers that are with her and tries to press forward. Cloud or no cloud. The one eyed woman is determined to push things back.

"Get 'em, Bob!" Ferrando yells over the din as he battles to hold position. The falling zombie and the incoming wave of noxious green magic make this position rapidly untenable, though, and after bashing a bug out of his immediate face, he waves a fall-back gesture and pursues the old tactical retreat, pausing to help yank Bob back up to his feet on the way. He catches a peripheral glimpse of Raja taking a hard hit from something and instinctively detours, smashing it in the back away from her for it can finish her off and then bodily hauling her up clear off the ground and continuing to hustle away. Moving furniture for victory!

Eirene allows herself a grim smile as the clouds break, but it's dampened by just how close the magic got. She puts her hand to the runestone pendant at her throat just to touch it. "He will not take our names! He will not break our resolve," she calls out. Her eyes flicker to Desma. "We got what we needed, keep the bird safe."

Edris isn't totally paying attention to what's happening above them, as he's more focused on trying to ensure that Alis isn't unguarded but with the confidence and respect to not try and impede her either. He does hear cries to get to safety, but he remains at his wife's side, though the flash of his sword doesn't make contact with any of the creatures that writhe and lash out of them--his strike is rebuffed by a twist of an unnatural body and a hard knock from its limb causes the sword to sail wide harmlessly. His steps with Alis', however, are like a dance they've practiced so many times before.

With the mist, Mirk is in his element. Rather than fighting back conceptually, as many do, he calls upon the wind. It howls around him, brushing aside small wisps of the mist, but he's not quite strong enough. There's a great deal of mist, and he's overestimated his own strength - his own command over the elements - to attempt to move it. He's pushed back, one step at a time, until he's beside the Elfbone Throne with others. At best, he bought himself time to do that.

Jan didn't retreat herself as the cloud moved forward though she commanded her soldiers to fall back. As the sickly smoke begins to fall back towards the thrown she waves them on with a quick pinwheeling motion of her arm and turns herself to press onward "BETRAYER!!!!"

"Hold." Amari calls out as the green mist pours out from Harrow Hall. Her small army is yet to throw itself into the fray, as if she's waiting for the moment. Some of the archers send arrows a distance further than should be humanly possible, over the lines, but the rest wait. She stands in her stirrups and gives a sharp whistle, which, weirdly, the GIANT CATERPILLARS respond to. One is fuzzy, orange and black, and it courses out beyond her, the next follows, an enormous green striped thing with a jutting yellow horn and the third, black with spikey hairs that sting. They march towards the fray, their massive mouth parts clicking together and their bodies pulsating as they surge in.

"DON'T MIND THE CATERPILLARS! THEY'RE WITH US!" Amari yells out, which seems prudent. They could be a little frightening otherwise.

Triton seems to hear the celebratory yells of bravado and courage, although he eyes the gargantuans with a stolid frown as he settles into place with the Ravenseye line.

Raja is a stubborn cuss, so she chooses to try and fight more! However, the choking cloud rushes in and she is unable to even concentrate. Words do manage to get through to her as she coughs and backpedals. A nod is given to Mattheu as she retreats towards the elf throne to regroup.

Vitalis coughs, chest and thoughts burning with the cloud that billows across the battlefield. Vitalis falls back, finding Adalyn and moving to her side. The garguantuans tower and thrash, the ground thundering with their feet and strikes. He stows Defiance and unlimbers his glaive. An old love, and feels somethind deep and resonant settle in his chest. He whirls it in a gyre around his head, tearing the billious fog, that swirls away in tatters. He lifts his voice to cry, "ALWAYS FAITHFUL!"

As the green mist flows forward, Liara's gaze picks out the figure of her sister, Macda, in the ranks of soldiers. The Princess of Bastion /smiles/. It is far too bright a smile for a battlefield, and yet. The light from Fortunato flares up. Liara calls forward a direction, "Stand fast, warriors of Arvum. We endure. Stand fast, and our foe's power will come to naught."

As others might fall back to the position about the throne, Grayson soldiers open up space in the line to let them through or to let them join those ranks.

The caterpillars draw Liara's attention but since they very much appear to be going towards the Horned God's forces, she doesn't interfere.

And Insaya casts her human burden down in the cluster of withdrawn wounded, bug-bitten, bloody, bruised, but still breathing humanity. And apparent super-humanity. There is nowhere now to run, even if a body wished to. But the rolling smog seems to disappate just before them. Her knife out she squeezes her fists tighter knowing the great trial is underway, not only here, but beyond.

Benny, not the only adorable critter on the battlefield now, grows bigger. His paws and tail being used as weapons to swat at and send bugs flying. Wheeeee!

Caspian is stimied in his push, hitting the wall of gargantuan and centipedes. his offensive slowed, he saw the flood of magic coming and shouted out "brace!! don't let up!"

There's an earthly rumble as a great beast bursts from the earth near Harrow Hall's gate, a monstrous cross of a scorpion, centipede and bear several hundred feet tall with a hundred gibbering mouths with mandibles, screeching in hate at a small group near the gate. It starts to lumber forward while the Winged Figures look overhead, and there is the beating of wings of a number of flying things diving towards it.


**********************************************************************
There's an earthly rumble as a great beast bursts from the earth near Harrow Hall's gate, a monstrous cross of a scorpion, centipede and bear several hundred feet tall with a hundred gibbering mouths with mandibles, screeching in hate at a small group near the gate. It starts to lumber forward while the Winged Figures look overhead, and there is the beating of wings of a number of flying things diving towards it.
**********************************************************************


Macda holds her song until the mist accedes to the behest of her voice, and still crooning for good measure, she retreats step by step toward the throne of bone. Turning in time to catch Liara's smile, she beams one right back, the warmth of it enriching her tone and melody.

Eirene says, "They're trying to disrupt the ritual!" She scowls in anger and concern as her eyes land on that horrific monstrocity. "We need to divert forces to engage and keep it off them."

Caine Arnasis, a foul-mouthed assistant have been dismissed.

Aconite waits a few moments where she is before turning to catch up with her partner in ambulatory equestrian work. The two meeting up at the medic tent. Aco gets a bandage for her hand before she is ready to head back out.

There's the thunder of hooves from two directions, and chariots smash into the horde from one side of the lines and a phalanx of armoured knights bearing a dozen banners of different excommunicated Orders slams home on the other. The Compact's allies are here, and are thundering into the fray.

Kastelon takes his eyes off of what he's doing for a moment as he's hearing Eirene shout, and there's a nod. "FORWARD! FOR ARVUM!" The large bear-like Keaton can do one thing, at least, and try to cause enough of a disruption to buy time.

In addition to whatever sounds those horrid (but actually kinda cool in a shitting-your-pants kind of way) creatures, the air is filled with the roars of dragons as they swoop in from the clouds to start helping take literal chunks out of the monsters.

A monstrosity rises in the distance, moving towards the small force the crept off to summon the Kindly Voices, as a large number of gargantuans turn as well, trying to crush the small group in isolation.

The green mist summoned by Orichalcum falters and then shatters under the magic of the Compact, a magic that the Horned God assumed was still far beyond them. Some shadow blocking out the empowering red moonlight upon it, and for a moment the forces of the Horned God pause, the hive mind torn in indecision.

But then the twisted elf Legion is rushing forward, attempting to overwhelm the forces of the Compact from coming to the aid of the smaller groups and the great Wall of Thorns is breaking apart- smaller beings made of thorns starting to assemble themselves and move to the attack.

((OOC: Okay for those trying to distract the Kaiju or gargantuans away from the smaller groups, it'll be a daunting check of whatever you wanna try, or hard with magic. Can just page me what you're trying to do and roll. For trying to hold against the rushing abyssal sylv'alfar legion and thorn men, it's going to be hard checks, and again aggregating the leadership, war, medicine checks.))

Macda sways her hips and bounces on the balls of her feet, snapping her fingers in celebration at the arrival of the dragons.

Adalyn stands at Vitalis side spear in hand as she continues to lead her mean in to fight, "ALWAYS FAITHFUL!" she cries out with Vitalis as the Baron and Baroness stand side by side fighting, they have spend many hours training with one another and work very well as a team! "Forward!"

Macda checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Macda marginally fails.

Harlex checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Harlex is successful.

Thea checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Thea is successful.

Drake checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Drake marginally fails.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Lou fails.

Medeia checks intellect and medicine at hard. Medeia fails.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Mattheu is successful.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Aconite checks intellect and medicine at hard. Aconite is successful.

Ferrando checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ferrando fails.

Iliana checks command and leadership at hard. Botch! Iliana fails completely.

Jeffeth checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Jeffeth fails.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Tesha fails.

Desma checks command and war at hard. Desma is successful.

Alis checks command and war at hard. Alis is successful.

Vitalis checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Vitalis is successful.

Pasquale checks command and war at hard. Pasquale is successful.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Caspian marginally fails.

Katarina checks mana and occult at hard. Katarina fails.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton fails.

Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Botch! Liara fails completely.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at daunting. Kastelon fails.

Fortunato checks mana and artwork at hard. Fortunato is successful.

Denica checks mana and artwork at hard. Denica is marginally successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Sydney is successful.

Preston checks mana and medium wpn at hard. Preston is successful.

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Adalyn is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja is successful.

Insaya checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Insaya is successful.

Lucita checks mana and performance at daunting. Lucita marginally fails.

Medeia checks intellect and medicine at hard. Medeia fails.

Edris checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Edris marginally fails.

Triton hears the command relays from Eirene and does his best to surge forward with his front but the tangle of bodies and incoming enemies effectively block him.

Vitalis lays about him with his glaive, smoke and mist, rearing up to strike and fall back, feint, spin, stab - block! He moves to stand back to back with Adalyn and her spear.

Amari checks mana and occult at hard. Amari is successful.

There is a moment of actual hesitation on Liara's part as she takes in the distant sight of the huge creature. She purses her lips into a thin line, gaze picking over the ground ahead, assessing it, but being silent is not, in fact, a good way to direct soldiers.

Drake looks up to the skies. The towering creature there is hard to miss, circled as it is by the dark shadows of winged things. This is dire... but then he realizes some of the winged things are on their side, too. "Ha!" That's all of the shout he can manage, but at least he's still in the fight. The hoardes are coming to bear down on him. He has to back up to get out of the clouds of smoke and gas, and finds himself closer to the base of the throne with every step. The sylv'alfar legion is bearing down on him. His sword parries, swings, blocks, but gets no purchase to strike. But he's determined to stay with the fight.

Jan checks command and war at daunting. Jan fails.

Katarina is scrambling, trying to help the efforts to lead the gargantuan beasts away from the smaller groups. Strangely, as she does so, she keeps... looking at her hands? Openly praying, flexing her fingers, all but whining, "Come on... /please/, work, /come on/..."

"Oh, no, don't pay attention to them Orichalcum. You keep your eyes right here. This fight you have been so fearing." Preston plants his back foot and pushes Crusader into the leg meat of the gargantuan as he lays his palm over the base of the blade and murmers in prayer, focusing on the need to protect others "You sit on a throne you have no claim to, boy. Not by your blasted elven law. A'kioh's soul lives, in this frail human body. Come try and liberate it." Preston yells up at the gargantuan and the master that sits behind all their eyes "You couldn't save your father from Alarice's anger. The woman that loved you now hates you. Surrender, Orichalcum. Seek redemption."

It's abrupt. The light around the Elfbone throne flickers out. The darkness is followed immediately by a differently-directioned flare of light, as Fortunato sends a searing brightness directly at the bear-anthropodal monstrosity. The impression is almost of the great pillar of light around Liara tilting horizontal to blast the foe. But only almost.

This time Denica focuses back on the massive mural her Islander soldiers hold up near the Elfbone throne. The princess closes her eyes briefly, she focuses on the art and the images she created only days earlier. The woman is sparkling with light and she looks up at the image of Queen Alarice, trying to make her shine. Transferring her own light to glow up the mural, in hopes that a giant glittery Queen beating the Traitor, might cause a little distraction.

Caspian spies the massive monsters that are turning and starting to move toward the other groups. "oh no no no, you keep your eyes on us!!" he dashed forward, sheathing his knives as he weaved through the fighting to get closer to the towering monstrosity. he ripped a canister from his belt and hurled it toward the creature. the canister cracked when it hit the creature, the arvani fire spilling out. but luck was not on his side as the majority of the fire splashed harmlessly onto the ground

Jan's voices begin to break when the massive beasts come into play. She attempts to cajole and whip them into form but rather than heed the crazy lady's command to gather and attack the massive beasts the men decide instead to break and give way much to Jan's frustration leaving the Sword of Nilanza to decide if she is dumb enough to try on her own or if she will fall back and try to get her men to regroup.

Somewhere on a small hill where no one can spot her, Mabelle's hand is held up against the moon. She is meditating, praying, concentrating to hold onto the coverage of it, to make sure confusion remains. Her other hand however is aimed at the battlefield, whatever it can do. Clearly she cannot control it, but it seems to know her heart. Maybe it sucks down another gargantuan, maybe it will decapitate a bear. Maybe. It has to work.

In the midst of it all, Kastelon's dipping a hand into a pouch on his belt to come away with a cloth, a flint, the wrapping of cloth about the shaft of an arrow which is lit aflame to glow bright in the darkness as he's taking aim once more. "OY!" Booming, low, loud, the Keaton huntsman takes a bead on one of the massive things that's toddling about the battlefield, before *TWANG* and the arrow's let loose - that it might not go where desired is beyond the point, but it's something different, something new.
And all know what happens when something new comes to play.

Mattheu speaks in ravashari to his troops grinning as they push into the Sylv'alfar dead army. A loud call as he looks overhead to watch the giant monster climb and seek only to look over towards Caspian trying not to laugh through both fear and want of hitting something in battle. "Hello Cousins!" Bells upon his sword sing as he slices at the dead.

Macda immediately ceases her victory dance. Expression lighting again with that wild-eyed bloodlust, she charges forward into the fray with her head and fists raised. This time, though she strikes with as much blunt force as a battering ram, one of the Sylv'alfar who engage her have the upper hand. She screams far more out of rage than pain as a thorn pierces her through a gap in her armor.

Mirk stares up at the great monstrosities, quelled for the moment, but he finds his determination. He whispers again, once more to the great figure of lightning that had been seen on the battlefield before, and once more it marches to war. This time against those massive creatures, unleashing thunder and lightning upon them. This time, all Mirk can do is offer his support. In the face of something like that, one man is nothing, and even his magic is a small thing.

Insaya makes a running slide into the nearest horror, scudding through the dirt to entangle and slice at the ambulatory parts of the body. No more thought. Just a frenzied attempt to add to the bloodshed and keep the ones behind her free of it for a few more seconds, so they can provide the distraction for the ritual to continue. As the dragons descend of the clouds overhead, and lights erupt from this one and that one, there is a look of pure wonder to her eyes.

As the GIANT caterpillars march into the battle, House Redire's army lines up behind them, and forms a classic wedge with the calvary at the spear point. They don't rush, but follow in a grim procession toward the front to whatever hole the caterpillars might open up for them. Amari meanwhile takes a beautiful old lyre from her pack and begins to tune, strum and then find a melody on the taut strings. This seems really an awful time to start playing as the gargantuans are rushing the line ahead, but maybe she feels the music will help with morale. Her archers continue to at least pelt the oncoming enemies with arrows as her lyre rings out and the notes blend with the screams of the living and the groans of the dying.

Iliana watches as the things they had been fighting turn towards another group, and while she doesn't attempt to redirect them back, she also seems to faulter at leading the front lines at that moment as if unsure how the field will turn with such new events happening. "Of course they have no attention span," she mutters while people around her attempt to be shinier than other shiny things.

Edris continues to strike out as now the enslaved sylv'alfar are upon them. He keeps defending Alis' back, trying to keep any of them from striking at her from that direction, even though the one he faces first dodges and sidesteps the slash of the blade he bears. But it's methodical, and relentless, even though where they to see through his visor, his eyes are filled now with as much grief as battle-lust as he tangles with them.

Pasquale's eyes narrow as he looks to the massive creature and the chaos its causing. His eyes flicking at the flying figures until he finally identifies them as dragons and turns his attention away. A haze of shadowy force spirralling gently around him, like motes of dust attracted to static. He looks at the lines, his fingers tightening on the grip of the bow, and inhales slowly as he realises that the soldiers around him are starting to fall apart and struggle. His shadowed green eyes shift away from the oncoming forces with something close to dissapointment. His attention back on the precious dance of battle. Only spending soldiers when it is necessary - and mourning each one.

Desma doesn't do much in any dramatic fashion apart from bolstering the troops along by the elfbone throne, directing volleys of arrows into the mass of horrors, shouting pike and infantry to form up and hold the line. It's not glorious work but it's needed and she does what she can.

The new creatures once more make Lou lose her resolve. She falters back further than she intended, and isn't quite at the ready when they come charging in for the attack. She does her best to try and parry each blow, and she's been lucky so far that the worst of it is hitting her armor. She swallows and moves forward, determined not to be cowed even further. Most of her hits miss their mark, but she's at least /trying/ to do what she can, as she /promised/ she would do as a representative of House Grayson.

Adalyn leans into Vitalis back, her spear swings high and stabs low. he is breathing heavily. "We fight as one! " she yells to him as another is taken out, a sickly sound as she tugs one of the tip of her spear. Her heat beating hard in her chest, like it was trying to escape out of its cage.."See men! They die!"

Sydney is immediately rushing out from around the crumpled mess of lethal insects that her portion of the front lines are holding against, the pugilist going to meet the assault of elves - playing to her strengths for the moment rather than trying to tickle the ankles of a foe that might be able to just step on her. The wheeling, roaring, fiercely attacking dragons has Sydney calling at the top of her lungs. Another voice lost in the hectic din of battle, but one that's nevertheless firm and fierce as she shouts skyward while sweeping the legs out from under a rushing Sylv'afar.

Sydney says in Draconic, "Rip them apart! Burn through the stain they would leave on this world! Fly!"

Ferrando is getting pretty badly pressed by the thorn men reinforcements in his little sector of the line, and the initial progress report in this regard is somewhat limited to 'overall, he didn't die' and 'starting a small collection of bloody thorn pokes' in terms of major accomplishments. Concentrated on survival as he is at the moment, he hasn't even seemed to pick up on the little oh-by-the-way of dragons overhead yet.

From the back and where the boats are all Ann can do at this time is clasp her hands together and pray. This is nightmare fuel but still she stands and watches. It is all she can do at this time as she tries to scan and look for her friends and loves out on the field,

Thea pushes forward spies the creatures and she pushes forward now, kopis raised. No time better than the present. She swings and fights her way through, grunting as she moves.

Tesha sees the large monsters that start to lumber into the battle and there is a moment that she looks like she's debating something. She gives a look to the thornweave blade in her hand and then...she starts running towards the larger monsters. Shouting in some strange language as she does. She has definitely thrown caution to the wind at this point.

Alis is... not used to hearing draconic, and certainly not in battle. So she double takes and sort of looks at Sydney. But it's hard to see through and above so many people! Fortunately, she has Edris guarding her rear or that moment of surprise might have cost her! Instead, she gets to fight onward. Or, backward, trying to protect those close to the throne.

Lucita's eyes widen, huge beasts,monsters in several directions. there is a moment of hesitation, trepidation then she tries to sing at the ones heading toward the smaller groups but it is a futile attempt. Nothing wrong with the spellsong really, just she is so far away, it is powerless. Frustration shows and she glances toward the last spot she saw Macda as she tries to think of something that may be effective. "Mourn and worry about others later, fight now." She says to herself as if maintaining her own efforts.

Mirk says in Draconic, "Show them who they've provoked."

Mattheu says in Ravashari, "Show them we hold Skald's heart! We're pissed, upon land, and mother's claims of the creatures here are proving true! Push forward and set that wall afire!"

Medeia pauses, head turning toward the sound of Sydney's voice, a grin briefly finding her lips as she follows further to the sight of dragons.

Eirene checks intellect and medicine at normal. Eirene is successful.

Eirene yanks her glove off, revealing a long white scar on her inner-wrist that runs upward towards her elbow. She starts to wrap a bandage around it even though it's not bleeding. "Fuckin' WORK," she says with resolution. A blue-white glow starts to eminate as if the bandage is on fire. Her eyes take on the same sort of coloration. She unwraps it again and holds it aloft like a banner. "To undo what's been broken, to repair what's been damaged," she says calmly. With confidence. The glow starts to spread like a blue-white mist against the ground. Those it touches start to feel their wounds ache less. Still there, still bleeding, but without the pain inflicted upon them.

Insaya staggers a step forward in the chaos under some inner lightning. Perhaps it was hearing Sydney so close, or the rush of wings. With swift steps to carry her ahead of the line of the Compact soldiery, the little Inquisitor faces the horrors assaulting the group by the gates. A deep breath... and then, raising her hands out and up like wings. Not shining, but burning, she lets loose a primal shout, to unleash.

Mihaly checks mana and athletics at daunting. Mihaly marginally fails.

Well, the wall of starlight...helped? Mihaly thinks. Hard to really what's effective at this point and what isn't, beyond sheer strength of arms. And while he thinks they could have a moments reprieve that certainly doesn't happen. As whatever that 'bearipede' thing decides that it wants to make itself known to all and sundry. "Fuck." the man pants, even if he's one to not really swear. Sweating, even though he hasn't been nearly as physically active as other, he tries to focus again. He isn't sure if he does is really the kind of magic that causes damage, but it is bright. And he can feel the pull, the connection to the stars, drawing down onto him, channeling it into his sword. Not so much that sword looks like it was dipped into the night sky, but glowing with the singular brightness of one star. Bright enough to be hard to look at. So when he points the blade at the massive creatures, the lance of starlight streaks away from him. The point is not to damage the creature, no. The point is blind the shit out of them when the lance flashes into an explosion of starlight right in front of their mutated and disfigured faces in an attempt to make it really hard to see.

upon her fighting, Thea manages to glimpse Eirene. She blinks. And blinks again. Shaking her head, she mumbles,"Definitely going to ask her ABOUT that one."' is not available.

Triton waves an arm, relaying an order to Ravenseye's light cavalry reserves, sending them arcing around the main lines to harry the gargantuans headed for the smaller group.

Medeia checks intellect and alchemy at daunting. Medeia fails.

Macda exhales a sigh of relief when Eirene's magic touches her, fleeting but rejuvenating.

Insaya checks mana and occult at hard. Insaya is successful.

There's a rumble and there is the many of the slain are not rising- and turning upon the Horned God forces. Some of the bones upon the Elfbone Throne twitch and an arm is reaching out from it, trying helpless to grab any foe nearby. It settles by attempting unsuccessfully to pat the Grayson Highlord in an encouraging way. The great summoned beast appears distracted by their efforts turning towards them, even as it begins flailing at huge flying shapes above its head, blasting it with gouts of flame as dragons assail it and a blast of what looks like a starburst hits its cheek.

As the thorn creatures swarm forward, a being made of lightning stumbles forward from near Mirk and begins stomping them, leaving sizzled remains in its wake.

Soldiers that have been seen to by the Physicians and the Undying Empire support. There's just so many of the thorn creatures, and the frontlines of the Compact are starting to be pushed back more and more, being driven towards the elfbone throne, despite the many undead rising up to assist.

Oddly, some of the attackers begin to be pulled into the ground, in something that looks like little hungry mouths devouring them. A lingering dread is felt by many as Leviathan makes his presence known, even in their aid.

Still, they have gotten their attention, buying the other forces more time, but more and more are coming to attack them, and it looks like new foes are starting to appear in the treeline behind them. Armed humans. Shavs, who have blank expressions of being completely under Legion's influence. They were called and have finally arrived, though the Compact lines are long enough to turn to form a wall against them.

((OOC: So distraction worked overall, despite some failed rolls, but combat getting harder. It's going to be daunting melee checks to try to hold them back from overruning the elfbone throne from the front, and for those trying to help guard the rear and bring Compact forces up, it'll be hard war checks to bring forces to not get surrounded by the incoming Legion shavs. Magic checks at one lower difficulty still applies to either front or rear.))

Drake checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Drake is successful.

Lou checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Lou marginally fails.

Ferrando checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Ferrando fails.

Preston checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Preston is successful.

Harlex checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Harlex is successful.

Denica checks mana and artwork at hard. Denica marginally fails.

Fortunato checks wits and artwork at hard. Fortunato marginally fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at daunting. Caspian fails.

Vitalis checks dexterity and huge wpn at daunting. Vitalis is successful.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Jeffeth checks dexterity and huge wpn at daunting. Jeffeth fails.

Alis checks command and war at hard. Alis is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Sydney is successful.

Eirene checks intellect and medicine at hard. Eirene marginally fails.

Mabelle checks mana and manipulation at hard. Mabelle is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at daunting. Triton fails.

Katarina checks mana and occult at easy. Katarina is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Kastelon fails.

Liara checks command and leadership at hard. Liara fails.

Adalyn checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Adalyn is successful.

Tesha checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Tesha is successful.

Jan checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Jan fails.

Edris checks command and leadership at hard. Edris is successful.

Thea checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Thea fails.

Preston pulls Crusader free and takes a moment to assess the battle. His eyes flick across the armoured groups - watching large...squirrels? And oh, there is Aureth's sewing circle of undead. And well. Everything else. But he has little time to do much as cultist hands claw at his shield. He shoves his weight into the shield to push them back before he slashes, Crusader singing as it holds the line "Templars! To me! We hold here - the light against the dark! Gloria wants it of us, to their end or ours." What he is definitely ignoring is big scary moon face. Because Preston literally can't deal with a moon - unless Ida has built a very large trebuchet, which is a nice idea but for a later date.

Lucita checks mana and performance at hard. Lucita is successful.

Ann checks charm and war at hard. Ann is successful.

The moments upon which history turns. Kastelon's blade comes free from its scabbard, with the sword brought the fore, and the Oathlands longsword goes snickersnack as he presses in, all that can be done truthfully is to try to help with the throng to push back those that would overrun the Compact lines from the fore.

Eirene checks intellect and medicine at normal. Eirene is successful.

Seeing /thorn creatures/, Medeia leaps toward the remaining supply of Thornweave Fire and scrambles through the Melle toward the front line, where the wicked goo can do the most damage against them, but she's really not a warrior. She's unsteady on her feet and fumbles the container.

Drake feels the healing, soothing aura battle against his aches and pains. The poison that got into his lungs seems pushed back by it. He grips his sword more tightly, feeling a sudden surge of energy. It travels into his right hand - that hand which was injured by these creatures a time that felt very long ago now - and pushes strength into his sword arm. To protect the throne - to protect the world - he presses in. Finally his sword strikes true once more, cracking against the bones of the abyssal armies as they are pressed back and away.

Lou continues to falter as the swarms and hoards of monsters drive in hard, her blade not making any hits as they had assuredly before. Lou still attempts to rally, even if her own courage might be on edge. She looks around for an allies she can fight side by side with, which may make this battle easier to handle.

Macda checks mana and performance at normal. Macda is successful.

Iliana checks command and leadership at hard. Iliana is successful.

Desma wields Warspite, an alaricite xiphos.

Mihaly checks mana and medium wpn at hard. Botch! Mihaly fails completely.

Desma checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Desma marginally fails.

Harlex cleaves into one of these soul-numbed soldiers. They hardly scream. But a blank stare doesn't keep a head attached to the shoulders. He focuses on the path, carving one out, giving the Compact's troops around him a chance to either get back on their feet or flee for a medic. Either way, that Whisperer of Names is hewing flesh from bone and taking what is owed to the Queen.

Mattheu checks dexterity and medium wpn at daunting. Mattheu is successful.

Jan tries to dig in and hold the throne but she has never gotten the upper hand yet in this battle even with the inspiring gleam of Glinting Gale. her lips twist in a stubborn snarl as she tries to resist falling back but in spite of her best efforts is driven back under an onslaught from her thorny foes.

Aconite checks charm and seduction at hard. Aconite is successful.

Liara turns as if expecting it to be one of her soldiers who had patted her, but, no, it is the nearby throne. She stares at it for a moment, as if it is about to attack her, but, no, the chair was just being encouraging. She paces a few steps from her vantage to gaze at the forces now appearing behind the Compact's line, but then evidently determines that the core threat remains the other way as she returns to where she had been. She issues orders to aides to relay, but right now, she's just not the same presence on the field as she had been earlier.

Two dragons, one a pale, icy blue and the other a lighter violet shade fly in unison over the oncoming, dull-eyed shavs. They open their huge mouths and breathe a mixture of ice and what looks to be acid over those that approach in hopes of slowing them before they reach the end of the line and wheel overhead for a return pass.

Triton is still a little off balance from his desperate attempt to push through the battle lines toward the enemy needing distracting. Regaining footing and swinging wildly, he takes another blow or two before standing solidly and looking around. The House troops are still in the battle, working to hold the steel wall around the throne, and ffrm somewhere nearby his twin is making familiar rage noises as the attackers piss her off.

Caspian stumbles back as the throng threatens to drag him down. he kicks back, scrambling back from the feet of the monstrosity as we beats back at the mindless throng that drive helterskelter toward the attacker. Its all he can do to get back to friendly lines and rejoin the soldiers as they ount their attack.

The terrible beared beast is coming toward them or, at least, away from the smaller group. This is great. Strangely, as the battle rages on and on, he's gotten brighter. His eyes and exposed skin luminous. But this time, as he raises his hands, the light merely flickers around the marginally-mobile elfbone throne. No sustained distraction, no attack. The timing could -- be better. He adjusts himself closer to Liara, as if he expects diving in front of the high lord will do any good in a pinch.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at daunting. Raja fails.

Mabelle opens her eyes for a singular moment only to notice that despite whatever success they have, the Compact is still being pushed back. Frustrated, she lets out a roar, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. ORICHALCUM! YOU HAVE TORTURED US FOR CENTURIES, IT ENDS NOW!" and with that she sets her hands forward, one above her head and one at the battlefield and pushes as hard as she can with her mind.

As the situation changes around them, Alis doesn't pull out of the front line, but she does rally those around her in to moving as a unit in order to not get boxed in. "Don't let them surround us! You can do this, keep fighting! Move with me now!" The taller Prince Consort beside her can hopefully, helpfully, point in the right direction for those who can just hear her and not see her. And as her eyes gaze up at the sky, she gives an excited whoop at seeing //dragons//. Yah!

Each push which Mattheu seeks to make forwards is only three steps backwards. Looking around where others are. Calling out in Ravashari to pull troops back, reforming the line where they can regroup.

Desma gives Liara a nod and draws both of her xiphos before moving to the edge of the throne, slashing at any enemies that get close to it, trying her best to protect Liara's position.

The lance of starlight might of worked? Partially? In conjunction with everything else going on around them? Mihaly doesn't seem sure, but now is not the time to really think about that too much. Something has faltered in him, and his eyes are now returning to normal from their previous pools of nightsky look they had had up until this point. Like something fizzling out. "Shit. Shit. No. Damnit." He tries to summon the starlight up again, to defend their forces once more, but there's nothing there. At least not for the moment. But he's still a knight of the Twainfort. He'll defend the Elfbone Throne along with the rest.

Eirene has the medics fired up, almost literally, from her inspiring magics. They rally under her calmly spoken cry with a renewed vigor as their wounds no longer trouble them. It enables them to better perform their duties in getting the worst away from the lines and tending to those who need it. She continues to hold the bandage aloft like a battle standard. She looks up. Dragons. Catapillars. Giants. The Dead. The Living. All things bonded against the coming tide of darkness and Destiny. She grins at the chaos like a madman.

From the boats Ann sees those shaves and she puts on her talons. Telling those around her. "We have to fight. For freedom, friends. For what was taken from us." She says those words as much to herself as to those with her as she keeps her eyes on the legion shavs as they advance.

Something seems to bring spirit back to Mirk, just a little bit, even before Eirene steps in. Then her magic bolsters him, and his grip tightens on the staff in his hands. He strides forwards, calling to wind and frost, to ice and storm. The words are indistinct, but the tone is clear. He's talking to the elements like an old friend. Like veterans that have been through war together and respond together. The elements answer, the wind whipping up frost and shards of ice, glittering and bright and deadly, as a short-lived whirlwind descends on a cluster of the thorn creatures. He's not relying on the lightning elemental now, but rather fighting alongside it. Or maybe, from a glance skyward, thinking of something else. He's still tiring, still slowing. This much magic is not easy for a novice mage like him. But for now, he's giving it his best.

Alis says in Draconic, "YES! Burn them to ash!"

Pasquale checks wits and war at normal. Pasquale is successful.

As Alis devises a path for the troops she rallies, Edris moves to help keep them steady and lend his voice to hers. "Our strength to the line!" he cries, in echo--pointing with his sword where Alis directs. "We hold the paths for those that need us!" He doesn't look up at the flying dragon, just his dragon--as they move in unison and with the fighting forces near them to help guard the others.

Thea tries keeping them back from the throne, but she grows a tad bit distracted by---the dragons. Which she knows, she KNOWS, she's not supposed to. But here we are.

Lucita looks toward Macda and then starts to sing, two voices louder and carrying further than one alone. Amid the sounds of battle can be heard fragments of a song:


Lucita looks toward Macda and then starts to sing, two voices louder and carrying further than one alone. Amid the sounds of battle can be heard fragments of a song:
Change, change, change
Seasons turn and turn again
Help enemies die, let it begin
With Petrichor's and Lagoma's Blessing
Change, change, change
Let Thorn beasts be confused
Against the monsters be used
Open a way so the ritual can break
And protect us with this effort we make
Change, change, change.

From above, one of the dragons wheels around and flies past close enough to call out, "We are with you, Scion of Valar!" They are dangerous words for a dragon to speak and yet, here they are, in battle and chaos, saying them anyway.

Laughing throatily at what she hears on the wind, Sydney's vicious smile only grows, showing more of her bloodstained teeth. She took a few knocks at some point, but the bulk of it isn't her blood. Which she's successfully not thinking much about, in favor of worrying about the blood on the mouths of the Sylv'afar that she runs in to. She reels back, and shoves her fist fiercely into the face of an elf who closes to attack her - and again. And again. The cracking squeal of alaricite on teeth and jaw as she makes pulp of their face. In fairness, they probably deserved it.

Ferrando will take all the helpful blueish-whiteish glowing he can get to keep him up on his feet, because staying in his zone getting pounded on by thorn men and now hypno-robotic people men is not a particularly desirable way to spend one's evening. But being the sort of tall persistent fighty individual that intentionally wades into these situations, in between the divebombing dragons, ground-swallowing disappearances, random lightning bolts, and bursts of gibberish shrieking, he sets his jaw and endures. "We can do this all night, eh Bob!" he grunts defiantly.

The truth hurts different for everyone and some people are more than happy with the choices they've made. While it might cause some to faulter, the risk is that others might find encouragement there. As Denica uses her art to expose back, the actions of those she fights have taken. The effect isn't quite what she wants, but that doesn't do much to discourage her at least. She'll just have to try harder next time. There's no end to what she might fight. In the heat of battle, the young woman narrows her eyes, letting the warmth drain and replacing it with cold determination. Oh, and a pair of middle fingers in the air, because when all else fails, cause a little trouble.

Vitalis switches back to Defiance, cracking the whip again and again at the thorny attackers, teeth gritted, falling back at the press of the Traitor's forces. He looks up as one of the dragons bellows support. He sways a bit and gives himself a shake, looking at Adalyn, casting around for allies to stand shoulder to shoulder with.

Alis blows a kiss to the dragon who calls out; not her smartest move. But, heat of battle. And she's fangirling.

Katarina has been helping wounded soldiers away from the fray, getting them to the next person in the chain of those helping the fallen (but not yet felled) to the medical tents. She's still close to the front lines, and still... having some kind of weird thing, praying, looking at her hands, sounding increasingly agitated. Is the battle getting to her? Is she starting to crack? She can be heard, by those close enough, steeling her voice as she whispers: "I am Princess Katarina Valardin." She clenches her hands into fists. "I am Princess Katarina al'Muraq-Sabbat." She lifts her hands up, toward the sky, as she says, voice firm: "And I will die here today." With those words, Katarina's dainty little royal hands begin to *glow*.

In the sky above the battle, a barrier forms from nothingness: a band of light, bright as sunshine, against which misfired projectiles crash, stopping any friendly fire incidents in the chaos of war. Katarina's hands continue to glow as she keeps them aloft, and she stares upward, face caught between utter disbelief and iron resolve.

Once again Aco is distracted from running the injured to the tent as even more enemies seem to crawl out of the woodwork. She and Alejandro pause and exchange a look, Aco's keen eyes traverse the battlefield looking for those motes of color that dance so brightly amidst the chaos, black eyes wide with awe at what the Compact has brought to this war. She remains still for a moment as she takes it all in, hand still tight on her blade, the kris still red with blood from where she grips it so tightly.

Adalyn continues to stab those that get snared by vitalis whip, she stands with him. "Stand strong!" she calls out to those around her, "DO not let him win! We will push on, we will be victorious!" She is not giving up hope, not yet! No! she will fight on its not in her blood to back down!

The trio of massive caterpillars slowly squirm their way through the onslaught against the tide of enemy, munching down on any thing that happens to run into their machine-like mouth parts. Chomp-chomp-chomp. Bones snap, severed limbs fly, the hedge is devoured, and enemies that fall before them are crushed into the earth beneath them. The Redire infantry hack at anything that gets by them as they surround their baroness protectively, and finish off anything left still twitching and broken in the wake of the giant wigglers. Amari, for her part, keeps playing a tune on her lyre, but frustrated, shakes off her glove so that her fingers can better feel the strings. She plays it /louder/, while lending her voice to Adalyn's who she hears over the din, "STAND STRONG, CLEMENT!"

Macda remains steadfast by her sister Liara at the throne. Placing a gauntleted hand on the Highlady's shoulder, she draws herself up to her unimposing full height and throws her head back with renewed passion. Several locks of tousled blonde hair spill from the bottom of her helm. Locking eyes with Lucita from across the chaos, she emits a clarion hum that supports and bolsters the other Spellsinger's melody. Then she chants with her, "Change, change, change," before adding her own improvisation.

"Let thorn beasts be confused,
Turn on each other, be fused.
Let thorn beasts be confused..."

Macda repeats the refrain several times, a clumsy rhyme that nevertheless sows confusion among the Compact's thorny enemies.

"Turn on each other, your mind is mine,
End each other by thorn and vine."

The dragons en masse start to turn on the largest of the creatures and a smaller, red dragon flies in hot and fast and begins to bathe the thing in fire. Anyone who fought on the front lines when Helena Thornweave attacked Arx might feel familiar with these flames. The other dragons continue to roar and claw and shred at the creature to kill it by inches.

Amari checks mana and occult at hard. Amari marginally fails.

Eira, 2 Bone Wardens, 3 Bone Wardens arrive, following Volcica.

Eira, 2 Bone Wardens, 3 Bone Wardens leave, following Volcica.

The fight continues on. Raja may not have armies or magic or affiliations with powerful creatures interested in aiding their plight, but what she /does/ have is determination! She continues fighting against the horde of grotesque creatures. Her dagger slashes and swings out, fighting one, then the next.

Something is happening. The shavs beginning charging them from behind have many begin to fall over and remarkably just fall asleep in their steps, even as the templars whirl to take defensive lines against the threat. Arxian fire is launched attempting to fire with precision just upon the newest charging horde, but one of the thorn creatures leaps up, and the canister is coming right back towards the lines of the wounded when Katarina's shield intercepts it in a brilliant blast of raw light that has the fire burn down harmlessly. Their lines are holding against the pressing forces from ahead and behind, and some fomorians are rushing to assist hold the frontlines, encouraged on by Sabella. And above, something is happening.

((OOC: Gemits coming, be a hold on next round of checks until I emit again))


**********************************************************************
The Great Book of Endings that has risen above the world suddenly slams shut. It floats in the sky for a long moment then bursts into flame as it shrinks, pages burning away into ash that litters in a falling rain all throughout the Compact.
**********************************************************************


Insaya checks stamina and survival at hard. Insaya is successful.

Mihaly checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Mihaly fails.

Mihaly has suffered a serious wound!

There's nothing quite like the giant evil magical sky book of your enemy self-immolating to give you a bit of a second wind in the midst of what feels a lot like an interminable stretch monster battling with barely a pause to catch your breath. Ferrando laughs, swings, and then laughs again in what might be a concerningly unhinged-sounding way to any allies in his immediate vicinity as he clobbers a thorn man to the ground, dripping sweat and blood but still hangin' in there.

Feels warmth tickle in her palms, wrists, fingertips and feels oddly more at peace. Ready for whatever the consequence. Fire erupts from her like blood from a vein, spraying the area in front of her hands with twin fountains of flame. When she cracks her eyes open, and realizes she is not D-E-D yet, she looks surprised... but not at a loss for what to do. "Merciful Lagoma," she says, and lets out a whoop of triumph as the book ash rains down from overhead and WHOOOMPH goes the hot hot heat that she directs over the tragically flammable creatures encroaching on her section of the line.

In the distance, the fortress of Harrow Hall begins to collapse, the walls sundering as if a great weight was squeezing it. Above the great beast is screaming in agony as the dragons take it down, and the forces of the Horned God all start to collapse, for many as if they were puppets and their strings were suddenly plucked. There's a shattering sound, as if a hammer hand fallen upon shackles and destroyed them right next to them, but no shackles are seen.

Behind them, the shavs that were milling to attack suddenly have their expressions change, freed of whatever had bound them. The thorn creatures around them start to fall still and then collapse, becoming twigs and vegetation on the ground. Gargantuans are screaming and beginning to tumble over, faces falling silent and still. The Wall of Thorns begins to wilt and collapse entirely.

Above, the moon is a boring dead grey.

Desma blinks a few times as she watches the sudden change in the enemies arrayed against them. "Is... is it over?" she asks, looking around to anyone who might answer.

Drake looks now into the sky again as a barrier begins to form. The light! Surely this is a powerful magic being unleashed. Perhaps, despite the dire odds, the tide here is turning. The fortress falls.... and something is screaming in the night. But then... The battle seems to cease, quite suddenly. The thorn creature that he was facing down crumbles into nothing but tree branches. The ache in his fighting hand is gone. He lowers his sword... slowly at first, as if he does not believe it, not feeling ready to celebrate in the silence. But then he sees the silver light of the moon. He pulls his helmet off, and takes in a deep healing breath.

Raising her head as she watches the book slam shut through the waves of dragonfire, of Insaya-fire, the clash of steel, and under the protection of a shimmering barrier, Sydney whispers tightly. "We'll write our own epilogue."

Aconite is practically asleep on her horse, thankfully Alejandro is there and can keep the Radiant astride as they watch everything fall apart. They're stunned for a moment blinking before Alejandro makes a great excited whoop.

Mihaly was initially okay. Or at least he thought so. Just struggling to channel starlight into his hand. And for a moment, he does appear to get back into the swing of things, his eyes slowly turning back into those pool of night sky. Until....they flash with the raw power of a single star. It might be unbecoming of a knight, especially one of his age to scream in pain, but he does, falling to his knees and crawling at his own eyes. Clawing at something that can't be grasped. Sadly, all these sudden changes the man cannot see. Because his eyes are suddenly burning from the inside out.

As the Wall of Thorns collapses and the Horned God's twisted creatures begin to scream and fall still, the dragons begin to bellow and roar. It almost sounds like a song of triumph that they are singing together.

Macda catches her breath, her hand clenching tight on Liara's shoulder. She gazes skyward, then toward the fortress, then to the moon once more, not daring yet to exhale.

Preston shouts out to the Templars "Hold! Stay your blades! Remember Gloria's mercy - these people were not willing, they had no choice. Let them choose now to be not our enemies." Preston stares at the collapsing Hall, letting Crusader drop a little, not quite yet willing to believe it is all over "Faith Militant, reform! Back to line!" he instructs, slowly backing up and away from the chaos of the field to reform with his soldiers "And someone tell me that those in the Hall came out first?"

Triton looks up at the sky and then around until he is starign at Rosa, then finally back toward the command area at Elora. Then he commandeers soldiers and organizes teams to carry wounded.

Pasquale stares out at the shavs as they fall asleep with what can only be described as a flicker of surprise.

Thea isn't sure where to start. The glowing of her friends, the moon, or the collapse of well...everything. She takes a breath, steady. Clearly she doesn't trust whatever is going on.

A breath. The lift of Kastelon's head, and a simple nod.
That'll do.
That'll do.

Caspian looks up, raises his arms and simply begins to cheer.

Mabelle drops her arms to her sides, the shadows stripping from the moon and vanishing into thin air. She looks puzzled at the battle field and at the moon, at the supposed calm that is taken over the battlefield, suspicious. Her eyes turn to Desma, "No. Where is he? Where is he?", she yells forth, "COME OUT, YOU COWARD", and then mutters, "Its not over until there's a corpse".

Fortunato wobbles on the edge of the dias. He looks up at the sky. He's still seeping light. He pulls his gloves back on. "I -- did they do it? Is it done?" Perhaps he's asking the sky. Or the falling bits of vegetation.

Jan stops and circles quickly looking around. Pumped with adrenaline she looks confused, uncomprehending as she looks around.

Macda locks eyes briefly with Mabelle from across the body-strewn battlefield, as tense and still as a cat ready to spring.

Tesha was so distracted with trying to die gloriously that she didn't see the dragons above them. Once she slices through gargantuan flesh and things start to tumble and crumble there is a look up as they roar and she wipes a bloody hand over her face and blinks her good eye. "Well hello beautiful ones." she grins at that. Hopefully no one hears her. Her love of dragons isn't a secret really. Then she looks towards the crumbling walls, "Just be prepared if there's another wave." she calls out.

Denica is high on the sparkle, whatever is happening, she's just taking everything in with wide blue eyes.

The light in the sky shimmers and fades, as Katarina's hands lose their bioluminescence. She seems almost out of breath, but she's weeping -- joyfully weeping, it seems like. Which is weird.

Alis stills, as everything around them does the same. First, she spins to see that her spouse is still there and standing. And then, spinning again to see Katarina now that the light is fading from her hands - and with a look of wonder. But then, at the roar, she looks up and just smiles. At least for a minute or two they can have this feeling of peace and triumph.

Eirene watches everything. The castle collapsing, the forces shriveling up, the dragons in triumph, the dead skull that is once more the moon. A smile is allowed even with the carnage. She's with Mabelle though in her thoughts. "Yeah, this ain't over..." Then she sees her husband on the ground, with their Riven medics rushing to him. Her smile fades. "Someone get him back to the medics tent," she bellows, pointing her blade at her pained spouse.

Mirk looks up, enrapt, and lets out a slow, ragged breath. "We won...?" He sounds as if he can't believe it. He turns to the lightning elemental and bows low. "Thank you. Our people will know of your contributions." He leans heavily on the staff, now that the adrenaline has begun to fade. But he's not relaxing fully. Not yet. It's as if a part of him can't quite believe that it's done.

A huge beast of lightning bows in return to Mirk and then bolts into the sky.

Mattheu falls to his knees as the tower crumbles

Medeia has been trapped at the front lines, and as everything falls apart, she hears Eirene call out. She rushes to Mihaly's side and offers her assistance to get him to the medical tent - it's where she was hoping to get back to, anyway.

Ferrando's manic giggling persists. "Just like the Siege of Arx," he declares wearily before leaning back and bellowing out a loud whoop, then planting his macehead into the ground and with two hands on the pommel basically uses it as a cane for a spell. "Two for two, Bobby! We're undefeated."

When it seems that it is over Ann looks around with uncertainty even if those around her are cheering and dancing. Bells can be heard in the back from the Rivenshari over here. Celebrating.

Insaya shakes her head toward the Templar position, "If if didn't fall to the ground, and the dragons didn't tear it apart... where did the red dragon go? The one that was in the Oathlands with the Thornweave?" She looks about her for anyone who might have seen.

As the forces of the Horned God collapse, Liara gazes across the field towards the collapsing fortress. She glances upwards, to the moon, and then, she /laughs/. It's bright and vibrant. She inclines her head faintly to Macda, and then, perhaps determining it for the best to be on the safe side, she starts to pace forward. She moves through the ranks of soldiers, and is intent on pacing, steadily, towards what is left of Harrow Hall. "Let us see that it is done!" she calls.

Symonesse has been working diligently amongst the other medics to triage and treat the wounded that come in. She doesn't look much like a queen now, covered in blood and other unsavory substances as she is. She looks up at Medeia and Eirene bring Mihaly into the medic tent. After murmuring a few words to one of the others, she steps forward to intercept the trio and swipes an errant strand of hair out of her face as she says in a low voice, "Let me see."

Lou attempts to swing at any other creatures coming at her and then they all just turn to twigs. She stops and stars in disbelieve, not quite realizing that Harrow Hall is crumpling and and collapsing. "What the....?" she calls out, stunned. She takes a steadying breath and looks around, her eyes wide and bright at the ensuing chaos of all things enemy seeming to dissipate or just stop being, save the shavs. She takes in another breath and slowly lets it out, wondering, "Is it over?"

Mabelle raises her hand somewhat, "Liara, Wait!", she calls out as the High Lady steps forward. Informal yes, its war.

Eirene has left the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Eirene has joined the Medics Tent.

Harlex kneels down by a dead soldier and turns her onto her back. He shuts her eyes and lays the sword on her chest. Few are as cleanly killed. He sheathes his own blade afterward and looks around. Some nods of encouragement given to others. But for himself, he looks unconvinced. Perhaps by the cost, or the cause, or the cries of freedom and change and his own doubts on these words. He keeps it to himself, of course, and lets the soldiers still breathing have their moment in the new dawn.

It's not until the foes around them are collapsing in earnest that Edris lowers his sword, though he doesn't unhand it. Instead he uses his free hand first to raise the visor on his helm, glimmering eyes wide and dark as they take in the sight around him. For the moment strict protocol melts away too, as that free hand moves to rest on the Princess of Sanctum's shoulder as he joins her gaze upwards.

Mihaly has joined the Medics Tent.

Thea takes a breath and starts helping gathering the wounded. Tending to those that may need it along the way...

Thea has joined the Medics Tent.

Liara pauses to look towards Mabelle.

Mirk seems to be the closest. She moves toward him, arms opening to give him a hug. "You are alright?" Her voice is a little hoarse, she has been singing long, loud and fervently. "I hope it is over... and the others survived."

Aconite has left the Medics Tent.

Vitalis exhales a pent breath, looking around warily, unable to believe the turn. He shields himself from the fall of ashe above. A skirl of hope flares in his chest. He blinks and looks around for Adalyn. Others.

Mabelle calls toward Liara, requesting, "Just wait".

Mattheu has left the Field Kitchen.

Mattheu has joined the Medics Tent.

Preston gestures one of the Templars forward "Run to the Solace, have them and the mercies check the ruins." Preston looks over at the Templar troops "Take the blades of the others. Separate the Sylv and the aarvani shavs - someone go get Lady Calyana to talk to the Sylv'alfar....assuming no-one wants to fight."

"I'm fine," Mirk says, though he looks like he hasn't slept in days. Unwounded, but drained, that's him. He returns the hug with a pat on the back, then steps away, leaning against his staff once more. "You are well, my friend?"

Raja stops as the creature in front of her just keels over. She just pants and looks around in a bewildered state. "That's it?" She asks incredulously. The woman is exhausted, bruised, and covered in the gore of fallen enemies. "Well. That's right fucker!" She yells at the crumbling castle. "Go fuck off!" She lifts a hand to offer a rather rude gesture in the direction of the castle. "Now I need a fucking drink."

Macda lets her hand drop from Liara's shoulder, her eyes wide and lit not with triumph--not yet--but with hope. She doesn't fully relax, meeting Mabelle's gaze from across the field, but she does allow herself but a moment of reprieve. Bending forward to place her hands on her knees, the Grayson songstress lets out a wild, unrestrained laugh that is not so much an expression of mirth as it is a cataclysmic release of emotion.

Sydney does pause to glance back toward Insaya, whom she offers a small smile, then towards the bawling Katarina, whom makes her expression soften. She doesn't lose herself to celebration just yet, still on the defensive. If anything is still thrashing around or moving, she's ready and waiting to put a stop to it.

Ann about runs off the boat and towards the field in search of Mattheu. She is being directed to the medic tent and off she goes.

There's a peal of laughter somewhere out in the middle of the battlefield, and it's joyous with a dark edge. The remains of a gargantuan get heaved into the remains of the hedge, and a twelve foot tall figure covered in dark plates holds up a fist to the sky. Then there's more laughter. Sanity isn't really present in the sound.

Jan begins to stabilize wounded and directing her soldiers to help transporting casualties to the medic's tent.

Pasquale's gaze lifts up to the moon for a time before it turns down towards the exhausted faces of his shoulders. He moves through them, purposefully offering words of comfort here and there, until he is able to stand besides Jan. He looks at her for a time and then gives her a soft little smile. "Told you so."

For some moments, Kastelon looks towards the crumbled hall. And then the sword is sheathed, bow stowed, and the Keaton huntsman moves to pitch in and help get the wounded to the medic tent.

Aco and Alejandro watch for a moment again, taking in all the activity before the two trot over towards the sleeping shavs and Aconite dismounts. Both humans and horses are covered in blood and sweat, and now ash. She does note what Preston says with a curious expression before looking at the sleeping Shavs again before leaning down to whisper to the closest.

Ann has joined the Medics Tent.

Liara gazes back over at Mabelle, then lifts a gauntleted hand to signal to the soldiers who she has now stepped out in front of. "Hold the line," she directs them, and so the same order is relayed along to the rest of the army, the many thousands of them. Then she stands there, looking once again towards the collapsed fortress.

Harrow Hall collapsed, and soldiers from closer to the Hall bring word back- The Horned God, the one known as Orichalcum, is dead. They can't find any trace of his minions, save the humans, who seem to be normal again. Freed. Knights report to Princess Liara Grayson, Highlord of the Crownlands. It's over.

Lucita replies to Mirk. "I think. I tried so hard to help, harder than have every tried in my life. It was a little easier when we stood on a tower and voices carried a long ways. Here in the midst of battle..." She shrugs and glances around seeking out familiar visages, hints of relief showing as she spots one and then another.

The pain is almost unbearable. The magical backlash from either channeling incorrectly or perhaps extending himself too far. "I can't see. I can't see!" he sounds almost panicked from the sudden loss of sight intertwined with unbelievable pain, initially thrashed at the hands that tried to grab him until the voices of Riven medics, along with Medeia is enough to at least get him to move along. The area around his eyes has blackened, marked by tiny dots of white, as if they were the last constellation or group of stars that he has pulled from. Burned or scared or something. His breathing racing and labored. "I can't...I *can't*!" And while he doesn't quite still at the sound of Symonese's voice, it's enough to draw his attention. "Your Majesty?" No, he wasn't expecting to hear her voice. "Forgive me, I failed you." Then as if another thought struck him. "Eirene? Where is Eirene? Is she alive? Is she safe?" he manages to bite out through waves of pain.

Amari has the same question as Mirk, "... We won?" The Redire knight riding alongside her gives a tentative nod after lifting his visor to better survey the devastation, and the crumbled keep. She doesn't seem entirely convinced as yet, but her fingers do still on the strings of the antique lyre as the music somehow seems weird, in the aftermath. "Let's join House Clement." She suggests before standing up in her stirrups again and whistling sharply several times in a bid to attract the attention of those ridiculous caterpillars now that they're listlessly squirming about the battlefield, hopefully sated enough they stop eating... everything. "Over here wiggly friends! You did well. Don't eat anyone else, please."

Eirene salutes Liara as the Highlord goes to inspect the damage of the keep. The battle is over, her part played. She has the wounded to see to and now? Now there's nothing for her to keep secret. She moves through the crowd of wounded to check on her husband, looking relieved at the fact Symonesse is there. "I've never done anything like that before... I hope it helped. I think it helped." She looks at Mihaly and scowls despite his being unable to see it, "What did you DO? Dumbshit." That's how he knows she loves him and that she's there.

Mabelle tilts her head a little, her expression is one of deep suspicion and confusion. She is at least relieved that Liara stopped going into the castle herself, but she cast her gaze toward Eirene and everyone else, pacing about, "That makes no sense, right? Where is he?"

Medeia relinquishes Mihaly into Symonesse's care. "Eirene is safe," she murmurs to the man. "We... Won." Thst doesn't sound certain. And yet? She looks around, taking in the sights. "We won." Then, she blinks. Shakes her head. Gets back to the very important work of helping the wounded.

Edris has a grip on Alis' shoulder that's probably pretty firm, though obviously not painful with layers of metal. He whispers hoarsely to her, just for ears. There's still the edge of combat in the tone, and grief as well as triumph. For now though he remains on the field with her, watching caterpillars and beavers and whatever else ripple by, at least until it's time to collect those soldiers around them and start to lead them towards helping move survivors and collecting the dead.

Rivenshari take to holding their position watching the hall fall as the dust rises from destruction and large bells ring over hills from their camp a few turn from the line to help Mattheu towards the medics tent away from the front line. Mattheu picks at his armor where he was struck a silly smile on his lips as he sees Ann get pointed towards the tent before he's walking in on his own. Pulling her close to him with a smile, "We won."

Triton w seems satisfied with the Ravenseye search parties and moves to gather up his twin and drag her off to the command area, where he hugs Elora and pets his stray mongel. "Guess we won. Wounded are being helped. Probably should think about dinner and ale. Gonna be a long night." Looks like the berserk is escaped today!

Adalyn looks around she lost track of Vitalis for a moment and panic sets in, "Vitalis?" she calls out looking around, her heart pounding her hands shaking. She sticks her spear into the ground and leans her forehead on it as she tries to catch her breath! Its over! Its really over!

Symonesse steps in close and takes Mihaly's face into her hands as she laughs gently, "You didn't fail me at all. None of you did." Her gentle smile fades as she looks over Mihaly and she says softly, "I am so sorry. I cannot give you back your sight, my friend. But I can give you a way to see. You'll just need to get used to it." Then, she leans in and gently kisses Mihaly's forehead.

Fortunato glances past Liara and Eirene to the knights. His eyes remain brilliant and gold. Light still leaks. "I -- gods. He's dead." Three beats. "It -- it doesn't feel enough."

Macda straightens and sets out onto the well-bloodied battlefield. She hunkers down and scoops up the fallen one by one, carrying them to the medic's tent before returning for another.

There's a strange calm and it doesn't quite feel right. Denica looks around at those nearby, checking their faces to see if it really is over. There's some apprehension and she doesn't quite untense. A glance at Liara and Eirene, then she is looking around but there's so many people, it's hard to see who those she is looking for lost in the mix.

There is relief when Ann can see for herself that Mattheu is standing, She will worry about whatever condition he is in later. Taking in the silly smile he gives her and she is taking in breaths from her run. Her own arms embrace him and she finally smiles and only nods. She doesn't trust her voice just yet.

Ferrando straightens up and lets out a deep breath, looking around and trying to stay out of the way of various platoons reforming and whatnot, ending up on one half of a litter bearing a wounded soldier back to the medics. That taken care of, he's left briefly aimless in the vicinity of the medical tents but notices Aconite nearby and so trods over to offer her a wildly incongruous politely picture-perfect etiquette bow despite being a muddy, bloody mess of a soldier at the moment. "Good evening, Radiant," he declares affably. "Glad to see you're looking well." He glances over at some of the nearby no-longer-writbound Shavs grouping up and blinks as a sudden thought occurs. "Archlector Astrid's going to have me running all over helping get the newly liberated sorted out very shortly, isn't she."

Insaya is under not particularly command, and so as people begin to cheer in celebration, she joins the team bound for the gates of the collapsed keep, praying.

Jan looks up as she sends a patient off and turns to meet Pasquale "Told you too, totally fine." she looks him over, "You hurt at all?"

Katarina spares happy (tearful) looks to both Alis and Sydney, but once she recovers her composure, she hustles off to the medical tent. She's no surgeon -- she's not even a barber in terms of draining people's humors -- but she has enough medical knowledge to help, and so help she does.

Desma takes a deep breath and takes off her helm and tucks it under her arm, surveying the battlefield before looking down at herself, nary a scratch on her. She huhs quietly to herself at this fact before she hears a chirping cry and looks up, holding out her forearm for Splinter to fly down and land on. "You did good," she whispers to the bird, "You did good."

Fortunato closes his eyes. Then he opens them again. He turns to Denica. He studies her. "You were marvelous," he says. "Gods, what an artist." He runs his gloved hand over his -- strangely overlit, indistinct face. He says, and it sounds like a quote, or something like one, "It will never be enough. We will struggle time and again and pray for change. We become change." He looks up at the strangely ordinary sky. "We became change. We lit the way. Thousands and thousands of us. Gods! Now what."

Thea looks about, at the wounded and such. She gives her first sigh of relief and smiles for just a moment before getting right to work. Getting her hands dirty.

Mabelle notices the anger surges that fueled her shadows has gone quiet. Realizing the traitor is actually dead. She looks disappointed at that, she really did want to strangle him with her bare hands. Well, off to the medical tent.

Cheering and loud hoo-rahs from the Knights of Solace, led by Jeffeth! Hugs! Pats on backs! All sorts of merriment at the fall of Harrow Hall and the received news!

Liara receives the message from the riders who went forward, and after acknowledging receipt of it, she turns to give a nod to Eirene. Then, she shakes her head faintly at Mabelle. "I do not know, but his power is shattered. It is over." She then smiles faintly at Fortunato. "It is enough for today." Another smile is extended to Denica.

Then, raising Elvesbane high, she calls out, audible enough to many of the soldiers in the army, "It is over. We endure." She sheathes the sword thereafter, and turns to begin to issue direction to deal with the wounded and the aftermath of the battle.

Aconite checks charm and seduction at easy. Aconite is spectacularly successful.

Somewhere along the way, it hits Macda.

"Holy shit! We did it! WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" She throws her arms up and screams in elation, finally doffing her eagle helm to reveal her flushed, bloodied face and sweaty, tousled hair, blue eyes as brilliant as ever.

Tesha still holds the Red Thorn and she looks around the field around her. All of the dead. She looks like she's waiting for another thing to happen. Too jaded to believe it's over. But nothing else comes for now. She breathes out and then looks down to her hands, one covered in blood and the other holding a once tainted blade. She doesn't feel joyous. She then turns, a bit of a worried look crossing her features as she looks for Mirk, but she finds him unharmed and she leans in to ask him a whispered question.

As the pain fades, so does Mihaly's breathing. His eyes are still pools of night sky when he opens them again. "I...can see? Somewhat? There's looks around the tent, the shapes of figures and people in the shape of constellations. How the stars move when their mouths move when their eyes blink. The finer details are gone, but it's like seeing a face differently for the first time. Everything is stars. "It's beautiful..." he looks at his hand, now suddenly a constellation in itself. His eyes turn to look at Eirene, now made of stars in his eyes. "I made a fool of myself. I tried to push back against the Traitor."

Lucita wanders away from Mirk, peeks in on the medics to make sure Eirene and Medeia and the others she knows are alright . As she walks along, she looks more and more fatigued and finally just sits down, looking a little lost.

Aconite looks up from helping wake the Shavs. The Radiant is gentle and kind but seems to me making wure they're all right and that they aren't immediately taking up arms again. As Ferrando walks up Alejandro nodes to him from where he's handling the horses. "You look like you should be at the medical tent." She says before helping another Shav to their feet. "Come on, all is well, the Traitor has fallen." She encourages before smiling to Ferrando, "Will you help?"

Mabelle has left the Medics Tent.

As the colour diminishes and the sparkle fades, Denica stands there looking like the breath is caught in her throat. Her eyes go from warm to cold and she blinks a few times struggling, letting that inner light return. Fortunato is given a sheepish smile, "and you are incredible, my friend!" But to his comment of now what, she says, "anything and everything," with a growing smile. That smile is exchanged with Liara and she nods, breathing out slowly. "It is," she murmurs quietly and with a deep respect for Liara, still feeling everything settle in.

Raja has left the altar carved with a wolf's head.

Vitalis's head comes up when he hears his name. Adalyn. He weaves through the throng of folk celebrating, crying, laughing, shaking, seeking her out. "Adalyn." Tears well, "Baroness of Duskhire. We did it." He throws his arms around her, "Your father would be so proud."

Sydney takes a deep breath and turns her focus up to the clear sky. It's... an easier place to look than at the ground. There are plenty who were not so fortunate as to survive. She lifts her chin and whispers, "...We made sure it wasn't for nothing."

Benny's decided that he's had enough of being big scary beaver, so the huge critter walks and shrinks down back to his usual size. He waddles off to go find his charge. To make sure she's not done anything silly while he was away!

Insaya pauses on her way to try and wrap Sydney in a brief, tight embrace, not entirely dry-eyed. Whatever she says is between them.

Eirene cries, "WE ENDURE!" Echoing Liara. Then she turns back to Mihaly. "We did it. You did it. I saw you, like shooting stars. Stop being a dumbass, you helped protect our soldiers. This was our big push. Everything on the line. I'd expect no less of you." She, too, kisses his forehead. "I have work to do. You rest." With that, she goes to work. Tending to wounds both with her medical skill and a hint of magic. No point in keeping THAT secret now.

Symonesse just smiles at Mihaly and quietly takes a step back to blend back into the crowd of medics that are attending the injured.

Adalyn lets her staff be when Vitalis reaches her and the tears fall down freely, her arms are thrown around him in return holding onto him. SHe lays her head in his neck as she hold holds onto him silent taking in the moment that he is there with her and they have made it!

"Anything and everything," Fortunato echoes, answers. He looks up into the sky. "Until every chain is broken. And then what?"

"Me?" Ferrando replies queryingly to Aconite. "Oh, most of this," the 'this' being accompanied with a general gesture at his currently splattered appearance, "is the other bug/monster/whatever/guy. I'll pop into a tent for some bandaging up later once they've seen to the real badly wounded. I'd be happy to help you out until then." He tends to be a fairly obliging employee, after all. Plus since Astrid is probably going to make him do it later anyway, like a true Skaldian he'd rather jump before he's pushed and such.

Macda has left the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Vitalis grins at Liara's cry, taken up by Eirene. He adds his own voice to the chorus, "WE ENDURE!"

Sydney does jump slightly when Insaya comes in for the hug. Sydney fiercely wraps an arm around Insaya and yanks her close. Unfortunately, this also means that Insaya has to contend with a not-insubstantial amount of dirty, gore, and blood. All that aside, though, it's a very quality hug.

Marigold, a cheeky pygmy goat, Blade of the Last Midnight, a rabbit, Hunk, a giant squirrel leave, following Amari.

Desma has left the Elfbone Throne Dais.

Gunther, a Rottweiler have been dismissed.

Severa, the Guard Shepherd have been dismissed.

Golden, an Oakhaven bloodhound have been dismissed.

Libera, a quiet hawk arrives, following Skaldia.

There's a lot of cleaning up to do. But the Compact forces begin to withdraw, victorious if winnowed. The army of the dead, very mercifully, seems to be going to its final rest.